DUKE 
UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/studentlifeathar01trip 


8TUDE]^T-LIFE 


AT 


HARVARD 


Ouonim  pars  minima  fuL 


BOSTON: 

LOCKWOOD,   BROOKS,   &  COMPANY. 

381  WASHrxGTox  Street, 

1876. 


copyright; 
By  LooKwooD,  Brooks,  &  Company. 
1876. 


STEREOTYPED  AND  PRINTED 

By  Rand,  Avery,  &  Company, 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


r-      •        -         '  ■  f 


PEEFAOE. 


The  object  of  the  book  now  in  the  reader's  hands  is 
to  give  a  faithful  picture  of  student  life  at  Harvard 
University,  as  it  appeared  to  undergraduates  there 
rather  more  than  half  a  score  of  years  ago  ;  the  story 
following  for  this  purpose  the  fortunes  of  the  hero, 
from  his  examination  for  admission  to  the  Freshman 
class,  through  the  succeeding  four  years.  Having  had 
this  object  in  view,  the  author  trusts  that  no  apology 
will  be  necessary  for  the  expressions  of  opinion  which 
the  characters  make,  nor  for  the  freedom  of  speech 
which  they  are  allowed  in  these  pages. 

Though  the  task  of  portraying  all  the  varieties  of 
student  life  at  Harvard  is  one  which  might  well 
demand  the  offices  of  a  more  able  pen,  the  author 
feels  that  writing,  as  he  has  done,  with  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  events  recorded  and  the  charac- 
ters portrayed,  he  will  be  found  to  have  given  a  full, 
if  not  a  brilliant,  exposition  of  the  subject.  Memor- 
anda made  immediately  after  the  occurrence  of  the 

3 


4 


PREFACE. 


events  described  form  the  basis  of  the  book,  v/hile 
a  large  portion  of  the  chapters  on  boating  were 
borrowed  from  the  diary  of  a  well-known  Harvard 
oarsman. 

Boston,  Oct.  10, 1876. 


OOITTEXTS. 


PAGB 

I.    E>-TEHEN-G  7 

n.    THE  WE^'TWOKTHS  23 

ni.  HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  EEGULATIOXS  .         .          .  .37 

IT.  BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT  "  ......  51 

V.  A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTRY  BOY         .         .          .  .66 

TI.    AN  ESCAPADE  80 

YII.    AT  HOME  95 

VTII.    AETER  THE  BALL  116 

IX.    STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT  129 

X.    THE  RIVER  147 

XI.    IN  A      SIX-OAR  "  161 

XII.    AT  QUINSIGAMOND  179 

XIII.  THE  REGATTA  BALL  198 

XIV.  SUMMERTIDE  223 

XV.    BY  MOONLIGHT  211 

XVI.    THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES  257 

XVII.    HAZING  A  ERESHMAN  275 

XVIII.    CAMBRIDGE   SOCIETY  291 

XIX.    DOWN  IN  DIVINITY  313 

XX.    A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION  828 

XXI.    THE   CONFERENCE  342 

XXII.    HASKILL'S  SPREAD  356 

XXIII.  THE  JUNIOR  YEAR  371 

XXIV.  THE  RUSSIAN  389 

XXV.  e:night-errantry  402 

XX-VI.    BEFORE   THE  FACULTY  415 


5 


6 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


XXVII.  SUSPENSION  434 

XXVIII.  SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK  449 

XXIX.  SENIOR  YEAR  464 

XXX.  THE  TRIAL  TRIP  .         •         .         .         .         ,         .  481 

XXXI.  CLASS  DAT  .  •        •  492 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


I. 

ENTERING. 

"  Is  that  University  Hall  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  I  presume  we  are  both  going  there  on 
the  same  errand.  Do  you  try  for  Sophomore  ?  "  The 
reply  was  made  by  a  fine-looking  young  man,  with 
dark  side-whiskers,  fashionable  clothes,  and  the  bear- 
ing of  one  who  had  seen  much  of  the  world. 

"  Oh,  no  !  for  Freshman." 

The  last  speaker  was  a  fresh,  frank,  noble-looking 
young  fellow,  full  six  feet-  tall,  with  an  honest  face, 
bright  eyes,  and  thick,  curling,  chestnut  hair.  He 
might  have  been  twenty  years  old,  and  looked  as 
though  he  had  lived  a  free  and  happy  life  in  the 
country.  A  certain  simplicity  of  manner,  and  lack 
of  fashion  in  his  apparel,  made  his  whole  appearance 
a  marked  contrast  with  that  of  his  companion. 

"I  am  Freshman  too,"  continued  he  of  the  side- 
whiskers,  with  a  smile  which  was  strangely  winning ; 
"  and,"  he  continued  in  a  half-patronizing  tone,  as  the 
twain  walked  on,  "  we  go  in  at  University  Sixteen  at 

7 


8 


STTJDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


eight  o'clock,  as  you  may  perhaps  know,  to  register 
names  and  present  credentials.  At  nine,  we  go  into 
Harvard  Hall,  —  the  brick  building  with  the  belfry,  — 
and  do  our  papers.  But  excuse  me,"  he  continued, 
with  his  characteristic  smile  :  "  my  name  is  Hunting- 
don,—  Walter  Huntingdon  from  New  York." 

"  And  mine  is  Samuel  Wentworth." 

"From  Boston?"  said  Mr.  Huntingdon, ^glancing 
half-curiously  at  his  companion. 

"  Oh,  no  !  from  Little  Harbor,  down  in  New  Hamp- 
shire." 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  place ;  at  least  know  where  it  is. 
Are  they  going  to  rub  us  much  to-day?"  he  added 
carelessly,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  can't  help  dreading  it,  though  I  have  had  care- 
ful instruction,  and  ought  to  pass  with  clean  papers," 
was  the  earnest  reply. 

"  It  will  be  '  rub  and  go  '  with  me  ;  a  most  merciful 
dispensation  if  I  pass  at  all,"  half  soliloquized  Hunt- 
ingdon. "I  would  give  something  if  the  confounded 
bore  was  well  over.  Suppose  we  sit  together  when  we 
go  in  to  do  the  papers.  I  will  wait  for  you  at  Har- 
vard Hall,  and  we  may  be  able  to  help  each  other  over 
the  rough  places." 

u  Very  well,"  and  the  two  young  men  joined  the 
large  group  collected  on  the  hard  shady  driveway  in 
front  of  University  Hall,  toward  which  they  had  been 
walking  across  the  college  yard. 

Already  there  were  more  than  a  hundred  assembled, 
and  others  were  fast  arriving.  They  were  mostly 
young  fellows  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  old,  with 
occasionally  a  face  that  might  be  five  or  even  eight 


ENTEHmG. 


9 


years  older  than  the  average.  These  candidates  for 
admission,  or  "sub-freshmen,"  were  very  readily  dis- 
tinguished, even  by  an  unpractised  eye,  from  the 
undergraduates.  They  looked  too  nervous  and  un- 
happy to  be  any  thing  but  what  they  were.  Some  boys 
had  their  fathers  with  them,  stimulating  them  to  keep 
theL"  courage  up,  and  do  their  best.  Here  and  there 
might  be  seen  a  college  tutor,  or  perhaps  an  assistant 
professor,  talking  with  the  parent  of  some  youth  who 
had  been  reading  with  him  for  the  examination.  At  a 
distance  a  knot  of  Sophomores  had  posted  themselves 
on  the  green  turf,  and  in  right  merry  mood  were  criti- 
cising the  new-comers,  and  making  up  their  minds  what 
sort  of  stuff  the  next  Freshman  class  was  to  be  made 
of.  Freshmen  themselves  till  within  a  week  or  even 
less,  they  need  to  behold  a  real,  live  new  Freshman,  to 
be  fully  assured  that  they  can  be  called  by  that  oppro- ' 
brious  epithet  no  longer.  A  word  might  be  said  about 
the  beauty  of  the  breezy  elms,  the  cool,  shady  walks, 
the  grass-plats  so  tempting  with  their  fresh  verdure, 
and  the  unique  buildings :  all  these  things  shall  be 
seen  many  and  many  a  time  by  and  by,  when  there  will 
be  leisure  to  admire  all.  Just  now  the  anxiety  and 
excitement  of  examination  is  too  absorbing. 

As  the  clock  in  the  square  struck  eight,  the  bell 
rung  on  Harvard  Hall.  The  group  on  the  drive  before 
University,  now  doubled  in  size,  broke  up  in  a 
hurry .  The  young  fellows  crowded  up  the  stone  steps, 
through  the  northern  doorway  of  the  hall,  and  thronged 
into  Number  Sixteen.  Not  a  very  imposing  room  or  a 
very  pleasant  one,  Samuel  Wentworth  thought  as  he 
sci'ambled  to  a  seat,  and  looked  around.    The  building 


10 


STUDBNT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


had  evidently  been  constructed  for  use  and  durability, 
rather  than  for  beauty  or  comfort.  Wentworth  saw  in 
front  of  him,  at  the  east  end  of  the  room,  a  platform 
surmounted  by  a  heavy  wooden  table ;  behind  the 
table,  and  covering  the  end  wall  of  the  room,  was  a 
large  cloth  curtain,  rudely  colored  in  representation  of 
some  plain  or  scene  of  ancient  Greece.  The  walls  were 
painted  a  dingy  yellow ;  the  floor  was  sanded  and  well 
v/orn ;  and  from  the  front  of  the  platform  common 
yellow  settees  were  arranged  one  above  another,  like 
the  seats  in  a  theatre.  This  was  the  young  student's 
first  glimpse  of  college  life.  Quite  different  the  reality 
thus  far  from  his  romantic  anticipation  !  But  the  work 
of  registering  names  claims  his  attention. 

Evidently  there  were  others  besides  Mr.  Huntingdon, 
who  were  impressed  with  the  advantage  of  securing  a 
choice  of  seats  in  Harvard  Hall  on  this  particular  occa- 
sion ;  for  long  before  nine  the  steps  leading  up  to  the 
door  were  packed  with  the  same  tlirong  that  had  stood 
in  front  of  University  an  hour  before.  As  the  hand  on 
the  church-dial  crept  round  to  the  hour,  the  janitor 
came  in  his  well-worn  suit  of  gray,  his  large  bunch  of 
keys  in  hand,  and  a  smile  on  his  pleasant  face,  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  Oh,  you  need  not  be  in  so  much  of  a 
hurry:  you  won't  be  so  eager  to  go  in  here  some  of 
these  days."  Many  a  year  has  he  unlocked  the  door 
for  just  such  an  impetuous  company;  has  seen  them 
come  back  at  the  beginning  of  each  term,  their  faces 
grovm  more  and  more  familiar,  till,  at  Commencement, 
the  college  sent  them  forth  with  her  blessing,  and  new- 
comers filled  their  places. 

''This  way,  Wentworth, — there  in  the  north-west 


ENTERLNG. 


11 


corner :  those  are  the  safest  seats,"  said  Sam's  new 
friend  in  an  excited  half-wliisper,  as,  the  doors  being 
opened,  they  were  carried  forward  by  the  irresistible 
impulse  from  behind.  With  a  rush  and  a  scramble, 
they  secured  the  coveted  position,  —  the  two  end  seats 
at  a  blue  deal  table  facing  the  wall,  and  quite  in  the 
corner  of  the  hall. 

Harvard  Hall !  \Yhat  a  magnificent,  impressive 
structure  those  words  had  called  up  to  Sam's  fancy  a 
short  space  before  !  Harvard,  the  oldest,  stateliest,  and 
richest  of  American- colleges,  must  needs  centre  all  its 
glories  in  Harvard  Hall.  The  exterior  had  not  prom- 
ised much;  but  even  that  promise  was  not  fulfilled. 
Here  w^as  the  same  sanded  floor  under  his  feet.  The 
blue  deal  tables  and  benches  looked  cheap  enough ;  and 
the  whitewashed  walls  and  bare  iron  posts  which  sup- 
ported the  story  above  were  utterly  devoid  of  orna- 
ment. Many  portraits  there  were :  in  fact,  the  walls 
were  quite  lined  with  them  ;  but  little  time  was  afforded 
for  their  inspection,  as  a  paper  with  printed  questions 
and  a  blank-book  were  soon  placed  before  each  candi- 
date ;  and  while  lynx-eyed  tutors  and  proctors  patrolled 
the  aisles,  to  see  that  there  was  no  communication  be- 
tween the  candidates,  every  man  went  diligently  to 
work,  and  wrote  out  the  answers  as  best  he  might,  one 
hour  being  allowed  for  each  paper. 

Huntingdon  seemed  often  to  find  "  rough  places ; " 
and  to  the  discomfort  of  Sam,  who  had  worked  very 
faithfully  for  this  examination,  and  came  to  it  w^ell  pre- 
pared, asked  a  great  many  questions  in  the  course  of 
the  morning,  writing  them  on  bits  of  paper,  and  push- 
ing or  tossing  them  to  Sam,  v/ho  sometimes  whispered 


12 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


the  answer,  sometimes  held  up  his  book  fo:r  inspection, 
and  sometimes  tossed  back  a  bit  of  paper  in  return. 
-  Thus,  in  translating  English  into  Greek,  the  young 
gentleman  from  New  York  copied  the  exercise  entirely, 
Sam  waiting  patiently  for  him ;  and,  as  this  was  the 
last  exercise  of  the  morning,  the  two  young  men  passed 
out  of  the  hall,  leaving  quite  a  number  of  their  fellow- 
candidates  still  hard  at  work. 

At  the  foot  of  the  steps  were  a  half-dozen  or  more 
grouped  around  a  young  man,  evidently  the  oracle  of 
the  occasion,  who  was  answering  questions,  and  making 
explanations,  with  unerring  accuracy.  He  was  tall, 
pale,  light-haired,  with  a  grave  manner,  a  bold  fore- 
head, and  a  clear  gray  eye.  Sam,  whose  mind  was 
still  perplexed  with  several  doubtful  accents  and  forms, 
approached,  and  soon  found  himself  engaged  in  a  warm 
discussion  with  his  new  fellow-students.  Huntingdon, 
standing  apart,  waited  with  manifest  impatience  and 
disgust  for  a  few  minutes :  then  stepping  up,  and  pass- 
ing his  arm  through  Sam's,  he  quietly  drew  him  away. 

Come :  '  let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead.'  It  can 
make  no  difference  now  whether  your  accents  were 
right  or  wrong,  though  I  would  wager  any  amount  you 
have  ninety  per  cent  correct.  Let's  improve  these 
three  hours  by  going  into  Parker's,  and  refreshing  the 
inner  man."  As  Sam  seemed  to  hesitate,  he  added, 
"  If  you  stay  here,  some  truculent  Soph,  will  capture 
you,  and  have  a  dinner  at  your  expense." 

But  in  spite  of  the  fascinating  manner  in  which  the 
invitation  was  extended,  and  the  uninviting  aspect  of 
the  hot  and  dusty  square,  Sam  held  back.  I  guess  I 
won't  go,  thank  you ;  "  and  as  Huntmgdon,  waving  his 


ENTERING. 


13 


hand,  ran  off  after  a  passing  horse-car,  he  said  half  to 
himself,  half  to  the  retreating  figure,  "  I  dare  say  I  can 
get  something  to  eat  here  somewhere." 

"  Ahem  !  Eat  ?  To  he  sure.  Hotel  accommodations 
unsurpassed,  only  a  few  steps  farther  on.  Just  my 
dinner-hour  too ;  and  if  I  know  myself,  and  I  believe  I 
do  intimately,  I  never  refuse  an  invitation  to  feed." 
Th?  speaker,  a  trim,  dapper-looking  little  fellow,  with  a 
brown  face  and  close  cropped  hair,  to  Sam's  infinite 
surprise,  took  his  arm,  and  sauntered  on  with  indescrib- 
able nonchalance. 

If  Sam's  first  and  natural  impulse  was  to  knock  the 
impudent  fellow  down,  his  abundant  good-nature  soon 
got  the  better  of  it,  though  he  half  stopped  in  sheer 
astonishment. 

"  Oh,  come  on,  young  man !  "  said  this  new  acquaint- 
ance coolly ;  "  don't  be  bashful :  there's  nothing  that 
pays  less  than  that  here.  You've  come  to  college,  I 
suppose." 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  mighty  good  thing  that  is :  makes  a  man  a 
man  quicker  than  any  thing.    Fresh.,  I  suppose  ?  " 
"  Yes." 

"  H'm  !  I  thought  so,"  casting  a  quick  glance  at  him. 
"  Ah  !  I  don't  envy  you  much.  Freshmen !  "  in  a  con- 
temptuous tone.  "  Freshmen  are  poor  devils  at  best ; 
they  always  excite  my  deepest  commiseration;  they 
ain't  much  better  than  dogs.  Sophomores !  "  with  a 
knowing  squint  at  a  weed,  and  a  snap  at  it  with  his 
slender  cane.  Sophy  isn't  much  better  off.  You  see, 
they  have  to  grind  so  over  those  blessed  mathematics. 
But  when  a  man  gets  to  be  a  Junior and  the  little  fel 


14 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


low  straightened  himself  up,  "  there  is  some  sense  in 
that,  you  may  just  bet !    I  say,  Smith," — 
"  Wentworth,"  interrupted.  Sam. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  of  course,  Wentworth,  —  beg  pardon,  —  I 
say,  Wentworth,  you  ought  to  be  anxious  to  fidd-up 
handsomely  for  the  honor  of  dining  with  a  Junior. 
Let  me  tell  you  one  thing,  Wentworth  "  (confidentially)  ; 
"never  treat  a  Soph., — it  is  money  thrown  away,  worse 
than  throvm  away,  wasted  ;  but  when  you  get  a  chance 
to  do  the  handsome  thing  by  a  Junior^  ah,  do  it,  Went- 
worth, —  do  it  without  fail !  " 

By  this  time  the  twain  were  seated  as  comfortably 
as  may  be  at  Kent's,  the  best  refectory  that  the  Cam- 
bridge of  those  days  afforded,  and,  from  the  tempting 
variety  which  the  bill  of  fare  presented,  concluded  to 
take  some  beefsteak  and  fried  potatoes,  with  a  bottle  of 
ale  for  the  Junior. 

'•'From  these  parts  ?  "  asked  the  latter  inquiringly. 

''  Not  exactly.    I  live  at  Little  Harbor." 

"  Where  in  the  world  can  that  be  ?  I  never  heard  of 
such  a  place." 

"  In  New  Hampshire  ;  not  more  than  fifty  miles  from 
here." 

"  Well.  They  don't  teach  us  much  geography  here." 
After  a  pause,  "  Plow  have  you  been  getting  on  with 
your  papers  ?    Llard,  are  they,  this  year  ?  " 

Not  very,  I  should  say,"  and  Sam  offered  them  for 
his  inspection. 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  the  Junior  with  a  grin.  "You 
know  more  about  them  than  I  do.  I  couldn't  do  them 
now  if  my  soul's  salvation  depended  upon  it.  It  does 
beat  all  how  quickly  anybody  can  forget  Latin  and 
Greek.    Gcing  to  room  in  the  buildings,  or  outside  ?  " 


ENTERICS  G. 


15 


"  That  I  don't  know.  I  thought  it  time  to  engage  a 
room  after  I  was  admitted." 

"  Ho,  no  !  Some  fellows  apply  six  months  or  a  year 
beforehand;  and  if  you  can  manage  to  be  tutor's  or 
proctor's  Freshman,  you  have  a  first-rate  room,  a  better 
show  for  next  year,  and  are  sure  of  Holworthy." 

"What  is  a  proctor?"  inquired  Sam,  looking  up 
innocently  from  his  beefsteak. 

"  A  proctor  ?  Why,  a  proctor's  an  animal  who  has  a 
room  in  a  bad  entry,  to  keep  the  Sophs,  there  from 
murdering  the  Freshmen,"  said  the  Junior  slowly,  keep- 
ing his  eye  all  the  time  fixed  on  Sam.  "  His  Freshman 
has  a  room  right  under  his  nose,  and  is  under  his 
especial  care  and  protection,  and  so  gets  off  with  less 
hazing  sometimes,"  the  Junior  added  with  a  wink  and 
a  knowinsf  wag:  of  his  head. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  being  sure  of  Holworthy?  " 
asked  Sam,  not  altogether  disconcerted  at  the  informa- 
tion thus  Youchsafed. 

"  Oh !  Holworthy  is  the  Seniors'  heaven.  There  is 
nobody  there  but  Seniors,  —  that  is,  none  of  the  lower 
classes ;  and  the  rooms  are  tip-top,  a  large  study-room 
with  deep  window-seats  looking  out  on  the  yard,  and  a 
bedroom  besides  for  each  chum.  A  fellow  will  g-ener- 
ally  do  any  tiling,  or  room  anywhere  at  first,  for  the 
sake  of  getting  into  Holworthy  senior  year.  Get  a 
chum  and  a  room  in  the  buildings  somewhere  :  you'll 
have  no  sort  of  show  for  Holworthy  if  you  don't; 
besides,  if  you  live  outside,  you  miss  half  the  fun  of 
college  life." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  get  a  room  in  the  buildings  ?  J 
don't  know  any  one  to  chum  with." 


16 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Oh !  Fanny'll  be  on  hand  when  you  go  to  get  your 
admission  papers,  and  give  out  the  rooms  ;  and  you 
won't  have  any  trouble  in  picking  up  a  chum.  I  never 
saw  mine  in  my  life,  till  five  minutes  before  we  agreed 
to  go  in  together ;  and  there  isn't  a  better  fellow  in  the 
world." 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  by  '  Fanny  '  ?  " 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  junior  with  a  laugh,  "  you'll  find  out 
who  Fanny  is  in  due  time  ;  "  adding,  as  they  arose  from 
the  repast,  "  Come  around  to  my  room,  and  make  your- 
self comfortable  till  three  o'clock.  My  name  is  HaskilL 
You  can  rest  off,  and  see  what  a  college  room  is  like ;  " 
and  they  made  off  to  the  cool  room  in  Stoughton,  Sam 
thinking  that  the  money  paid  for  his  new  friend's  enter- 
tainment was  not  so  badly  invested,  after  all. 

The  first  exercise  of  the  afternoon  was  the  paper  on 
ancient  history  and  geography ;  simple  enough  as  a 
whole,  but  there  was  one  question  the  answer  to  which 
Sam  was  utterly  unable  to  recollect.  Recall  the  facts 
to  mind,  or  any  incident  in  any  way  connected  with 
them,  he  could  not.  He  had  done  enough  of  the  paper 
to  pass,  but  felt  ambitious  to  answer  all  the  questions 
correctly.  He  had  noticed  a  good  deal  of  communica- 
tion, besides  what  had  passed  between  himself  and 
Huntingdon,  and  it  had  been  done  with  impunity  ;  the 
instructors  who  were  on  duty  to  prevent  it  apparently 
not  caring  to  make  an  example  of  any  one  :  so  after  a 
good  deal  of  very  nervous  hesitation,  and  feeling  very 
mean  and  uncomfortable  all  the  while,  he  leaned  over  in 
Huntingdon's  direction  as  far  as  he  could,  and,  with  a 
furtive  glance  around  to  see  that  no  one  was  looking, 
whispered,  What  about  the  second  battle  of  Manti- 
neia  ?  when  was  it,  and  who  fought  there  ?  " 


EXTEETXG. 


17 


"  Sit  np,  or  they'll  spot  us,"  said  Hmitingdon  as  if 
talking  to  tlie  table;  "  four  eighteen  —  Agis  and  "  — 

"  Xo,  no  I  the  second  battle  ?  "  Sam  asked,  this  time 
in  a  louder  whisper. 

Oh  !  the  second,"  Huntingdon  replied,  consulting  his 
paper,  and  watching  a  favorable  opportunity.  "Epami- 
nondas," — and  the  single  vrord  brought  back  the  entire 
story  fresh  to  Sam's  mind.  Unlucky  Sam  !  He  had 
gained  the  object  of  his  desire,  but  at  what  a  cost  I 
Elis  movements  had  been  fully  observed  by  one  of  those 
sharp-sighted  tutors,  who  had  at  last  concluded  that 
forbearance  had  ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  Indeed,  this 
violation  of  the  rules  had  been  too  open  to  be  passed 
unnoticed.  Sam  had  just  finished  writing  the  answer, 
when  he  felt  himself  touched  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Were  you  communicating  just  now,  sir  ?  " 
-  All  the  blood  in  Sam's  healthy  system  rushed  to  Ms 
face  and  neck,  as  he  answered,       was,  sir." 

"  What  name,  if  you  please  ?  "  the  tutor  asked  in  a 
sharp,  precise  voice,  and  with  a  manner  which  was 
afterwards  very  familiar  to  the  young  man. 
Wentworth." 

Sam  saw  the  tutor's  pencil  write,  "Went worth,  his- 
tory," and,  as  the  officer  moved  away,  felt  as  though,  so 
far  as  entering  college  was  concerned,  it  was  all  over 
with  hiiT  Some  few  of  the  vouuq;  fellows  Icoked  iii 
hiiL.  compassionately ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  those 
who  had  witnessed  the  scene  exchanged  knowing  looks 
of  mingled  congratidation  and  exultation.  Presently 
Huntingdon  touched  his  arm,  and  asked  if  he  were 
not  going  out  to  take  a  breath  of  fi^esh  air  before 
mathematics. 


18 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  You  take  it  altogether  too  hard,"  quoth  the  latter, 
as  they  passed  out  of  the  hall.  "I  am  sorry  they 
spotted  you  ;  it  is  too  bad  :  but  at  worst  it  will  only  be 
one  condition.  Of  course  they  won't  pass  you  on  this 
paper ;  but  you  know  it  well  enough,  and  can  make  it 
up  without  difficulty.  Pluck  up  courage,  and  do  some- 
thing splendid  on  the  mathematics  and  the  '  orals,'  and 
I  will  wager  any  thing  you  will  pass  clear.  The  chances 
are,  the  tutor  won't  report  you :  he  won't  if  he  is  a 
decent  fellow." 

But  all  Huntingdon's  well-meaning  words  of  consola- 
tion and  encouragement  had  very  little  effect  on  Sam. 
There  was  that  within  him  which  the  former  gentleman 
knew  not  of.  Of  course  he  would  tell  the  story  when 
he  reached  home,  and  explain  his  conditions ;  if,  indeed, 
he  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to  be  only  conditioned,  and 
not  refused  admission  on  any  terms.  His  mother  should 
know  the  reason  just  as  it  was ;  and  he  felt  even  now 
the  rebuke  of  her  silent  sorrow,  —  sorrow  not  because 
he  had  failed  to  pass  an  examination,  for  that  might 
happen  to  any  one,  but  because  he  had  shown  such  a 
deplorable  lack  of  manliness  and  common  honesty.  He 
thought  too  of  his  proud,  high-spirited  sister,  and 
wondered  how  he  was  going  to  look  her  in  the  face,  — 
she  who  had  been  his  second  self;  and  setting  these 
friends  aside,  and  considering  what  he  had  done  by 
itseK,  he  felt  that  he  had  been  little  better  than  a  thief. 

The  bell  rang  at  four,  and  he  went  into  the  hall  to  do 
the  geometry  paper  with  a  heavy  heart ;  and,  when  the 
day  closed,  he  felt  that  the  afternoon's  work  had  been  a 
total  failure.  That  night  he  spent  alone ;  and  he  prom- 
ised himself,  that,  should  he  be  admitted  to  college,  he 


ENTEEING. 


19 


would  be  honest  in  all  recitations  and  examinations,  and 
take  a  just  credit  for  what  he  knew,  and  for  nothing 
more.  This  determination  he  kept.  At  the  oral  ex- 
amination the  next  day,  being  Tuesday,  as  he  was  well 
prepared,  and  had  recovered  in  a  measure  from  his  de- 
spondency, he  did  do  something  splendid,  and  had  hopes 
that,  after  all,  some  lucky  chance  might  carry  him 
through. 

Five  o'clock  of  this  Tuesday  afternoon  saw  a  hundred 
and  fifty  or  sixty  anxious  young  fellows  assembled  in  a 
large  room  in  University,  known  as  the  Old  Chapel, 
waiting  to  learn  their  fate,  while  to  and  fro  hurried  the 
overtasked  college  officials,  not  yet  ready  to  report  in 
full.  This  room  was  decidedly  more  comfortable  than 
any  of  the  college  apartments  the  young  man  had  seen 
as  yet.  The  settees  were  comfortably  cushioned ;  and 
the  hall  was  at  least  passable  in  point  of  architectural 
beauty.  While  all  were  bearing  the  delay  attendant 
on  making  out  the  papers,  with  the  best  grace  possible, 
a  gentleman,  tall,  thin,  with  grayish  hair  and  beard, 
spectacles  on  nose,  and  speaking  with  a  curious  nasal 
drawl,  ejaculating  every  third  or  fourth  word  with  a 
funny  little  snort  and  a  twist  of  the  head,  announced 
from  a  desk  that,  if  any  two  wished  to  take  a  room 
together,  there  were  still  several  rooms  to  be  had. 

Sam  concluded,  and  correctly,  that  this  must  be  the 
"  Fanny  "  whom  the  Junior  had  referred  to  yesterday, 
and  that,  if  he  wished  to  secure  a  room  in  the  college 
buildings,  he  must  needs  do  so  now.  He  was  making 
his  way  to  the  desk,  when  Huntingdon  accosted  him. 

"  Have  you  a  room  and  a  chum  ?  " 

"  No,  neither,"  said  Sam  expectantly. 


20 


STUDENT-LTFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  No  more  have  I,"  rejoined  Huntingdon,  with  his 
most  fascinating  smile.  "  Suppose  we  take  a  room 
together." 

Nothing  could  please  me  better,"  replied  Sam,  with 
a  flush  of  pleasure,  for  he  thought  his  new  friend  the 
finest  fellow  he  had  ever  seen.  They  went  up  to  the 
desk  together. 

"  Fanny  "  could  give  them  a  room  in  Stoughton  or 
a  room  in  College  House :  every  thing  else  had  been 
assigned. 

"  What  kind  of  a  room  is  the  one  in  Stoughton?" 
asked  Huntingdon. 

"  Very  good  room  indeed,"  replied  the  curator  with 
his  characteristic  snort  and  an  odd  look  at  the  ques- 
tioner over  his  spectacles,  at  the  same  time  perching  his 
head  on  one  side,  putting  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
and  thrusting  his  pencil  into  his  mouth  with  a  decided 
upward  tendency,  as  a  fast  young  man  sometimes  holds 
a  cigar. 

"  What  sort  of  apartments  in  College  House  ?  " 
"  I'd  put  my  own  son  there,"  he  replied,  removing  the 
pencil  for  a  moment. 
"  Front,  or  rear?  " 
"  Oh,  rear  !  " 

"  Well,  he  needn't  bite  one,"  half  whispered  Hunting- 
don to  Sam. 

"  I  guess  we  will  take  the  room  in  College  House, 
though  it  is  out  of  the  yard." 
"What  names?" 

The  record  was  made,  and  that  really  very  important 
matter  was  settled.  The  papers  were  then  ready  ;  the 
doors  connecting  the  Old  Chapel  with  the  President's 


ENTERING. 


21 


room,  and  that  with  the  regent's,  were  thrown  open  ;  and 
the  tutor  whom  Sam  had  such  good  reason  to  remem- 
ber called,  one  by  one,  though  not  in  alphabetical  order, 
the  names  of  the  candidates,  in  his  sharp,  precise 
manner.  They  were  to  receive  their  papers,  pass  down 
the  stairs,  and  go  away  quietly.  Go  away  quietly  !  and 
that  after  a  man  had  passed  a  successful  examination  on 
four  or  five  years'  work !  Many  a  glad  huzza  in  the 
entry  below,  and  even  on  the  stairs,  attested  the  joy 
which  the  happy  fellow  felt,  at  being  well  over  with  it 
all. 

At  last  came  the  name  "  Wentworth  ;  "  and  with  beat- 
ing heart  Sam  passed  into  the  President's  room,  received 
with  a  bow  a  kindly  smile,  a  "  Mr.  Wentworth,"  and  a 
glance  from  eyes  that  evidently  intended  to  know  him 
v/hen  they  saw  him  again,  some  folded  papers ;  thence  on 
through  the  regent's  room  and  down  the  stairs,  hardly 
daring  to  learn  his  fate. 

"  All  right !  isn't  it  ? "  said  Huntingdon,  who  was 
waiting  for  him.    "  I  am." 

"I  haven't  looked  yet." 

"  Well,  let  us  examine.  No,  you  are  not  either. 
History,  —  oh,  well,  that  won't  trouble  you  much,"  he 
exclaimed,  clapping  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  No.  It  isn't  half  as  bad  as  I  expected.  I  am  sure 
]  congratulate  you  on  your  success,"  said  Sam  with  an 
attempt  at  a  smile.  "  Come  and  see  me  in  the  morning 
afc  the  Revere,"  and  he  started  off  for  Boston  disconso- 
lately enough.    Unlucky  Sam ! 

But  the  scene  around  the  southern  doorway  of  Uni- 
versity Hall  was  lively  indeed.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
crowd  was  told  to  disperse,  or  that  the  janitor,  himself 


22 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


as  well  pleased  as  any  one,  exhorted  them  to  leave  the 
premises.  The  steps  and  plat  of  ground  in  front  were 
thronged  with  glad  faces.  Every  one  seemed  to  have 
been  successful,  and  glad  friends  were  warm  in  their 
congratulations.  "  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  one  small  fellow, 
half  tumbling  down  the  steps,  hat  and  umbrella  in  one 
hand,  and  his  papers  in  the  other.  "  Good  for  me  !  only 
four  conditions !  I'd  have  sold  out  m}^  chance  prett}^ 
cheap  an  hour  ago ; "  and  he  was  welcomed  with  out- 
stretched hands  into  a  noisy  group  with  cries  of  "  Good 
for  you,  Charley  !  "  Indeed,  it  cannot  but  be  a  glad 
company;  for  when  is  one  happier  than  after  he  has 
passed  his  freshman  examination  with  clean  papers,  and 
looks  forward  to  the  weeks  which  are  to  follow,  weeks 
of  unalloyed  enjojrment,  with  perfect  freedom  from  all 
care  ?  At  last  he  has  reached  the  goal  toward  which  he 
has  been  so  long  striving;  at  last  he  is  one  of  those 
mysterious  beings,  a  college  student. 


II. 


THE  WENTWOHTHS.  - 

In  the  pleasant  sitting-room  of  the  quaint,  old-fash- 
ioned Wentworth  mansion-house,  a  girl  is  practising  at  a 
piano.  She  has  found  a  difficult  passage  in  the  music, 
and  is  mastering  it  with  quiet  but  unflinching  persever- 
ance. The  rhythm  of  the  harmonious  movement  pours 
itself  out  on  the  still  summer  air,  falters,  breaks,  and 
stops ;  begins  again,  falters,  breaks,  and  stops.  At  a 
half-shaded  window  a  lady  sits  sewing.  Something  in 
the  unfinished  phrase  of  music,  or  it  may  be  her  own 
anxious  thoughts,  unconsciously  stops  the  play  of  her 
delicate  fingers ;  and  the  work  drops  forgotten  from  her 
hands,  as  she  looks  out  upon  the  sea,  stretching  away 
off  till  it  meets  the  sky,  soft  and  gleaming  and  dreamy 
before  her  in  the  midsummer  time.  It  is  a  slight,  almost 
girlish  figure,  and  a  face  of  womanly  beauty,  purity;  and 
strength,  which  the  passing  years  have  touched  but 
lightly,  albeit  it  is  a  little  sad  in  its  expression. 

The  sea  !  What  a  picture  comes  up  before  her  as  she 
looks  out  upon  it  from  her  shaded  window,  bringing 
back,  fresh  and  warm  and  tender,  the  one  romance  of 
her  life  !  She  sees  a  boat  coming  across  a  mad  wilder- 
ness of  waters,  to  the  rescue  of  a  fated  ship's  company ; 
the  glad  joy  of  deliverance  from  deadly  peril  thrills  her 

23 


24 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVAED. 


very  soul  again,  as  she  remembers  how,  during  the  weeks 
of  a  homeward  voyage,  she  had  come  to  love  the  noble 
young  officer  in  command,  now  her  rescuer,  as  she  had 
dreamed  she  might  love  a  man.  Then  came  the  time 
when  she  had  left  her  father's  home  under  displeasure, 
though  she  was  an  only  daughter,  and  fondly  cherished. 
"  She  has  disobeyed  me,  disgraced  me,  and  I  never  will 
see  her,  "  said  the  stern  old  man.  Nor  did  he  relent 
till  on  his  death-bed ;  though,  in  truth,  the  young 
captain  could  boast  a  bluer  blood  and  a  far  more  illus- 
trious ancestry  than  the  irascible  merchant-prince,  his 
employer.  He  had  brought  his  bride  to  this  home 
of  his  fathers,  —  the  home  of  colonial  magistrates  and 
patriot  soldiers  Avhose  lives  had  been  prominent  in  the 
early  histories  of  the  land;  and  here  had  she  remained, 
wife,  mother,  v/idow,  content  with  the  sweet  recollec- 
tions of  the  past,  and  the  constantly  recurring  but  ever 
varying  duties  of  her  daily  life. 

And  that  other  sea,  on  which  her  first-born,  her 
splendid,  noble  bo}^  is  just  launched  for  his  first  voyage, 
so  perilous  to  the  stanchest  craft,  with  its  ever-shifting 
tideways  and  treacherous  rocks,  its  storms  and  Avreck- 
strewed  coasts  !  She  knows  full  well,  though  into  her 
pur6  and  peaceful  life  scarce  a  whisper  of  the  great 
world's  wickedness  has  come,  the  terrible  dangers  which 
beset  her  son's  pathway,  now  that,  for  the  first  time,  he 
is  leaving  his  home,  and  going  forth  into  the  world. 
'  Iliere  are  many  parents  who  dread  the  perils  of  a  col- 
lege-course to  their  sons  so  deeply,  that,  highly  as  they 
prize  the  benefits  of  education,  they  are  unwilling  to 
expose  them  to  this  too  great  risk;  and  no  one  ever  had 
juster  cause  for  fear  than  Mrs.  Wentworth ;  but  as  her 


THE  WEXTWORTHS. 


25 


own  fond,  anxious  heart  coulcl  not  forecast  the  end,  I 
will  not. 

"  There,  mamma  !  I  believe  I  shall  have  no  more  dif- 
ficulty ^vith  that.  Just  see  how  smoothly  it  goes  I  "  and 
the  young  girl  swept  through  the  difficult  passage  with- 
out breaking  or  faltering.  "  ISTow  let  us  make  ready  the 
feast,  for  Sam  will  be  at  home  before  we  know  it.  Isn't 
it  an  age  since  he  went  away  !  " 

Sam  told  his  story  with  a  very  creditable  degree  of 
confusion  and  honest  shame.  He  did  not  omit  to  relate 
how  the  tutor  had  seen  him  communicating,  and  that  he 
had  been  conditioned  on  one  paper,  though  passing  free 
on  every  thing  else.  Kate's  face  had  flushed,  and  her  blue 
eyes  had  been  very  scornful,  in  spite  of  herself;  but  she 
had  not  uttered  a  single  reproachful  word.  She  was  one 
who  had  no  charity  for  any  thing  that  savored  of  mean- 
ness. It  was  almost  worth  while  being  guilty  of  a  fault, 
to  see  how  whole-souled  she  was  in  her  displeasure  ;  but 
she  soon  satisfied  herself  that  her  brother's  chum  was 
the  cause  of  his  going  astray. 

"  How  did  this  Mr.  Huntingdon  pass  ?  "  she  asked, 
after  listening  attentively  to  her  brother's  story. 

"  Oh !  he  got  in  all  right,"  said  Sam  enthusiastically. 

"  "Well,  he  must  be  a  fine  fellow  I  " 

"  That  he  is,  and  you  will  say  so  when  you  see  him." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  him  :  I  know  I  shall  always 
hate  him  for  being  mean.  And  you  are  going  to  room 
together  !    I  am  as  vexed  as  I  can  be." 

To  this  Sam  was  silent,  well  knowing  that  argument 
would  avail  nothing. 

"  Did  you  see  your  room  so  as  to  know  what  it  is 
like  ?  or  didn't  you  have  curiosity  enough  for  that  ?  " 


26 


STTJDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


"  Yes,  we  saw  it.  We  went  out  to  Cambridge 
Wednesday  morning,  and  Huntingdon  hunted  up  an 
old  fellow  with  a  big  bunch  of  keys,  just  to  see  what 
we  were  coming  to,  he  said ;  but  we  didn't  find  much. 
The  room  is  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  feet  square,  only 
one  flight  from  the  sidewalk  in  the  square,  in  a  building 
that  they  call  College  House.  It  is  just  over  a  grocery- 
store,  a  rear-room ;  and  the  two  windows  look  out  into 
a  dirty  back-yard  full  of  boxes  and  bundles.  There 
is  a  grate,  a  closet  for  clothes,  one  for  wood  and  coal, 
and  a  bedroom  about  the  size  of  your  piano ;  it  may 
be  a  little  wider,  but  certainly  no  longer.  How  we 
are  going  to  squeeze  two  beds  into  it,  I  can't  see. 
Huntingdon  said  the  rooms  in  College  House  were 
designed  for  a  single  occupant,  but  that  every  thing  is 
so  crowded  now,  that  they  have  been  obliged  to  double 
up." 

Then  as  the  brother  and  sister  sat  in  the  broad  door- 
way of  the  old  house,  looking  out  on  the  now  peaceful 
ocean  tinted  with  the  gorgeous  hues  of  a  midsummer 
sunset,  the  one  listened  eagerly  while  the  other  told  all 
his  hairbreadth  escapes  in  the  "  orals,"  —  how  he  was 
very  near  being  called  up  on  a  passage  in  Greek,  of 
which  he  couldn't  have  read  a  word,  but,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  did  make  a  regular  "  squirt "  on  another  pass- 
age (to  which  last  expression  Kate  objected,  till  Sam 
said  it  was  college  vernacular ;  after  which  she  accepted 
it  readily)  ;  confessed  that  his  expectations  of  some- 
thing very  grand  in  the  college  buildings  had  been 
disappointed ;  told  all  about  his  adventure  with  Mr. 
Haskill,  and  what  a  strange  though  good-hearted  young 
man  he  was  ;  and  at  last  came  back  to  his  chum,  whom 


THE  WEXTWOETHS. 


27 


he  declared  to  be  the  finest  and  most  gentlemanly 
fellow  in  the  world. 

"  Didn't  you  get  acquainted  with  any  more  of  your 
classmates  ?  " 

"  Xo.  YeS;  I  did,  —  with  a  Mr.  Villiers.  We  had  a 
discussion  about  a  Greek  accent.  He  was  right,  and  I 
was  wrong,''  said  Sam,  bursting  into  an  immoderate  fit 
of  laughter. 

"  I  don't  see  any  thing  so  absurdly  funny  about 
that." 

"  I  was  laughing  to  think  what  a  comical-looking 
youth  he  is ;  "  and  Sam  described  his  appearance  as  he 
had  stood  before  the  steps  of  Harvard  Hall,  grave  and 
dignified,  answering  first  one  question  and  then  another. 
He  did  full  justice  to  him  too,  so  far  as  was  possible 
after  so  slight  an  acquaintance ;  and  the  pictiu-e  was 
not  unpleasing  to  Kate. 

"  I  believe  I  should  like  him  better  than  the  other," 
she  said  after  a  time. 

"  What  I  better  than  Huntingdon,  better  than  my 
chum  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Kate  replied,  musingly. 

"  Ah,  wait  till  you  see  I "  said  Sam,  confidently. 

Little  Harbor  had  in  colonial  days  been  a  port  of 
considerable  importance,  though  for  generations  before 
this  time  hardly  a  vessel  had  entered  its  waters.  An 
insignificant  river,  broadening  as  it  entered  the  sea  into 
a  basin  triangular  in  shape  and  of  considerable  magni- 
tude, afforded  a  safe  retreat  when  the  waters  of  the  outer 
harbor  of  the  neighboring  city  were  rough  and  tempes- 
tuous.   A  high  rocky  point  well  covered  with  ct^durs 


28 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAHVAED. 


and  firs,  jutting  far  out  into  the  Atlantic,  protected  it 
from  the  rough  east  wind ;  and  an  island  alternating 
with  strips  of  white  sandy  beach  and  wood-covered 
rocks,  it  might  be  a  mile  in  length,  formed  the  north- 
ern shore,  separating  it  from  the  outer  harbor.  The 
third  side,  irregular  in  outline  and  varied  with  bold 
bluff  and  fertile  plain,  formed  a  part  of  the  many  acres 
of  the  Wentworth  estate.  On  the  point,  distant  three 
or  four  miles  from  the  mansion-house,  across  the  ever 
smooth  waters  of  the  basin,  and  on  one  of  the  finest 
locations  on  the  New  England  coast,  some  Boston 
capitalists  had  built  a  mammoth  hotel  for  summer 
guests ;  and  the  numerous  attractions  of  the  spot  were 
beginning  to  command  the  attention  of  the  public. 

One  afternoon,  Kate,  glancing  out  of  the  window, 
saw  her  brother  coming  up  the  path  from  the  landing, 
accompanied  by  two  young  men  whom  she  had  never 
seen  before.  She  recognized  them  at  once  from  the 
description  she  had  heard,  and  was  not  in  the  least  sur- 
prised when  Sam  ushered  them  into  the  room,  and  intro- 
duced one  as  Mr.  Huntingdon,  and  the  other  as  Mr. 
Villiers.  The  first  glance  satisfied  her  that  Sam  had 
been  within  bounds  in  his  praise  of  his  chum,  and  that 
he  was  a  finer  gentleman  than  any  she  had  ever  seen. 
There  was  something  irresistibly  fascinating  in  his  win- 
ning smile,  his  smooth  manner,  and  his  conversation 
which  adapted  itself  perfectly  to  the  company  and  the 
subject ;  but,  beneath  the  admiration  which  she  could 
not  but  feel,  there  still  lurked  a  distrust  which  she 
had  entertained  from  the  very  first,  and  which  her 
inmost  self  told  her  must  not  be  too  hastily  renounced. 
She  liked  the  clear,  honest  gray  eyes,  and  the  grave 


THE  WENTWORTHS. 


29 


manner  of  Mr.  Villiers,  thoiigli  lie  was  absnrdly  dig- 
nified. 

"  What  a  picturesque  situation  for  a  dwelling,  ]\Iiss 
Wentworth !  It  must  be  a  hundred  feet  sheer  down 
to  the  water,"  and  Huntingdon  glanced  with  evident 
admiration  at  an  irregular  part  of  the  house  built  on  a 
rock  hanging  high  over  a  coA^e  below,  as  they  strolled 
about  the  grounds.  I  hardly  ever  saw  any  thing 
more  romantic  in  Rhineland,  to  say  nothing  of  matter- 
of-fact  New  Enoiand." 

I  imagine  my  grandfathers  had  an  eye  to  safety 
from  Indian  attacks,  rather  than  to  a  romantic  situa- 
tion when  they  built  there,"  returned  Kate  pleasantly. 
"That  is  the  very  oldest  part  of  our  very  old  house, 
built  nearly  two  hundred  years  ago.  It  has  stood 
unused  for  more  than  a  century." 

"  It  isn't  haunted,  I  hope  ?  "  said  Huntingdon  with  a 
smile. 

"  Indeed,  it  has  always  had  that  reputation,"  replied 
Kate,  half  seriously.  "  Please  don't  go  too  near  the 
edg'e.  It  is  a  hundred  feet  down  to  the  water,  and  a 
hundred  feet  more  to  the  bottom,  at  the  ver\^  least." 
As  Huntingdon  rejoined  her,  she  added,  "  This  deep 
place  under  the  bluff  has  always  been  known  as  Con- 
stance's Pool." 

"  On  account  of  some  family  tradition  ?  " 

"  Yes :  a  very  beautiful  girl,  a  great-great  aunt  of 
mine,  threw  herself  down  from  her  overhanoina  win- 
dow,  on  the  very  eve  of  her  marriage." 

"  What  could  possibly  have  been  the  cause  of  sach  a 
proceeding?" 

"  No  one  ever  knew."  , 


30 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  She  was  bewitched,"  interposed  Sam,  who  with 
his  mother  and  Villiers  joined  Kate  and  Huntingdon, 
when  they  all  seated  themselves  under  the  shade  of  a 
massive  oak.  "  We  have  had  all  sorts  of  folks  in  our 
family,  and  a  thorough-going  old  witch,  who  was  finally 
drawn  on  a  plank,  and  shot  with  a  silver  bullet,  among 
them;  at  least,  so  Caleb  says." 

"  Caleb  is  our  man-of-all-work,  who  was  born  on  the 
place,  as  his  father  was  before  him;  and  he  is  very 
fond  of  telling  stories  of  bygone  days,"  explained  Mrs. 
Went  worth. 

"  You  must  prize  these  oaks  very  highly,"  said  Vil- 
liers to  Kate.  ''I  never  saw  any  thing  more  suggestive 
of  strength  and  endurance." 

"  You  would  think  mother  prized  them,  if  you  had 
seen  her  when  a  man  came  and  wanted  to  buy  them," 
said  Sam.  "  He  was  a  constructor  at  the  navy-yard, 
and  wanted  them  for  ship-timber.  There  are  thirty  of 
them,  and  he  offered  a  hundred  dollars  apiece.  I  never 
saw  mother  really  angry  before ;  and,  as  for  Kate,  she 
was  furious  :  weren't  you,  sis  ?  " 

At  this,  Kate  looked  just  a  little  furious  at  her 
brother's  garrulity ;  and  then,  with  a  softening  expres- 
sion, "  We  love  every  one  of  them,"  she  said. 

The  scene  which  was  spread  out  before  the  party 
was  one  to  send  a  thrill  of  pleasure  through  the  heart 
of  the  most  sluggish.  The  deepening  shadows  of  the 
now  sombre  oaks  had  already  inwrapped  the  irregular 
pile  of  the  mansion-house,  which  seemed  in  the  half- 
uncertain  light  to  be  suspended  over  the  dark  waters 
below.  Beyond,  in  the  quiet  half-shade,  the  waters  of 
the  basin  were  undisturbed  by  a  ripple.    A  hundred 


THE  WENTY\"ORTHS. 


31 


windows  of  the  hotel  on  the  point,  three  miles  away, 
flashed  back  the  golden  light  of  the  setting  sun  till  the 
pile  seemed  all  ablaze,  while  sky  and  ocean  yied  each 
with  the  other  in  gorgeous  coloring,  till  they  melted 
together  in  the  purple  distance. 

Mr.  Walter  Huntingdon  had  seen  too  much  scenery 
in  his  experienced  life  to  waste  his  admiration  on  a 
sunset,  when  almost  at  his  side  was  breathing  loveli- 
ness, a  loveliness  very  much  more  to  his  taste.  He 
vowed  that  never,  in  the  Old  World  or  the  Xew,  had 
he  seen  a  more  charmmg  girl  than  his  chum's  sister; 
and  he  was  sure,  too,  that  she  possessed  beauty  of  char- 
acter. The  afternoon  had  been  a  continuous  astonish- 
ment to  him ;  and  he  felt  inclined  to  bless  the  good 
fortune  which,  incomprehensibly  it  seemed  to  him,  had 
led  him  to  cast  his  fortunes  for  the  commg  four  years 
with  the  unsophisticated  country  boy. 

I  have  no  words  to  describe  Kate  Wentworth's 
beauty.  She  had  an  abundance  of  wavy  black  hair, 
deep  blue  eyes,  alive  with  ever-varying  expression;  a 
complexion  fair  as  a  lily,  and  fresh  as  a  June  rose  ; 
and  a  figure  which,  though  girlish  as  yet,  betokened  the 
hearty  elasticity  and  vigor  of  perfect  health.  As  the 
two  strangers  took  their  leave  of  the  ladies  (Sam  hav- 
ing declared  that  in  another  hour  the  low  tide  would 
make  the  return  by  water  that  night  an  impossibility), 
Huntingdon  sincerely  regretted  that  his  engagement 
with  a  party  of  friends  on  a  yachting  voyage,  and  the 
arrangement  for  an  early  start  in  the  morning,  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  accept  Mrs.  Vv^entworth's  invita- 
tion to  tarry  there  for  a  time. 

"  But  Mr.  Yilliers  is  not  going  away  in  such  haste,  T 
trust,"  said  Kate. 


32 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


No :  Mr.  Villiers  had  intended  to  remain  at  the  hotel 
some  weeks,  and  he  was  not  likely  to  shorten  the  time 
because  of  the  afternoon's  experience. 

Mr.  Huntingdon  sailed  away  next  morning,  and  left 
Villiers  at  the  hotel,  where  it  was  fated  he  should  not 
remain  long;  for  Sam,  full  of  enthusiasm  at  the  thought 
of  having  a  classmate  for  a  companion,  called  for  him 
early  in  the  morning,  took  him  to  sail,  and  then  home  to 
dinner.  As  they  tarried,  a  furious  thunder-storm  burst, 
the  wind  hauled  to  the  east,  a  cold  rain  set  in;  and 
Villiers  was  detained  a  willing  prisoner  at  Mrs.  Went- 
worth's  house. 

The  young  stranger  passed  an  evening  full  of  quiet 
enjoyment,  the  like  of  which  he  had  never  known ;  and 
ever  looked  back  upon  it  as  one  of  the  happiest  events 
of  his  life.  It  was  impossible  for  any  one  not  to  feel 
at  home  in  the  house  of  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her 
daughter.  The  harmony  of  the  home-circle  was  so 
perfect  that  a  more  fastidious  guest  than  Villiers  must 
needs  have  been  charmed,  while  to  him  the  beauty  of 
this  quiet  domestic  life  was  like  a  revelation.  Never 
before  had  he  met  two  ladies  who  seemed  to  embody 
his  ideal  as  did  this  mother  and  daughter :  the  one  so 
lovely,  vfith  all  the  graces  of  womanhood ;  with  a  quiet 
care  and  thoughtfulness  for  others  which  made  her 
peculiarly  attractive  by  contrast  with  the  selfishness  he 
had  so  generally  encountered :  the  other  so  bright  and 
beautiful  that  it  seemed  to  his  perhaps  romantic  fancy 
as  though  she  must  be  a  creature  designed  for  a  better 
existence  than  this,  whom  no  man  might  even  dare  to 
more  than  worship  from  afar.  He  could  hardly  under- 
stand how  the  words  of  careless,  familiar  praise  of  her 


THE  WENTWORTHS. 


33 


beauty,  which  his  classmate  had  uttered  so  flippantly 
the  evening  before,  could  have  been  spoken.  He  lis- 
tened to  the  music,  and  took  his  part  in  the  conversa- 
tion as  occasion  required ;  but,  in  spite  of  himself,  it 
was  with  the  air  of  one  abstracted. 

Much  of  the  time  during  the  next  three  weeks  the 
young  men  spent  together ;  and  their  friendship  ripened 
fast.  Sam,  with  his  impetuous  enthusiasm,  soon  con- 
cluded that,  next  to  his  chum,  he  could  not  like  any 
one  better.  With  all  his  admiration  for  Huntingdon, 
he  did  not  yet  feel  quite  at  ease  with  him.  Some- 
times he  was  conscious  of  being  patronized  a  little,  and 
he  had  even  thought  that  Huntingdon  made  sport  of 
him  on  certain  occasions.  He  was  entirely  willing  to 
acknowledge  the  latter's  superiority  in  every  way;  but 
he  entertained  no  such  exalted  oj)inions  of  Villiers. 
They  went  boating  together  ;  and  nothing  could  have 
been  more  awkward  than  that  gentleman's  first  per- 
formances with  the  oar  or  tiller,  though  Sam  was 
obliged  to  confess  that  he  was  a  very  apt  pupil. 

"  I  never  saw  anybody  greener  in  a  boat  than  he  was 
ten  days  ago,"  he  said  to  Kate;  ''and  now  he  sails 
ft  boat  extremely  well,  and  has  all  the  names  of  every 
thing  pat,  too." 

"  I  have  noticed  that  he  learns  very  quicldy,"  was 
the  quiet  reply. 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  that  so  much  as  that  he  sticks 
to  a  thing  so.  We  were  becalmed  outside  yesterday, 
and  had  our  choice  of  staying  there,  or  pulling  in.  He 
took  an  oar,  and  I  took  one.  You  know  he  looks  like 
any  thing  but  a  strong  fellow,  and  the  old  boat  has 
over  a  ton  of  ballast  in  her ;  but  he  wouldn't  give  up 


84 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


till  we  were  alongside  the  landing.  Why,  he  fitted 
for  college  in  two  years,  and  is  a  year  younger  than 
I  am." 

"  Has  he  ever  told  you  any  thing  about  his  family  or 
friends  ?  "  said  Kate  after  a  little  time. 

"  Not  much.  He  says  he  has  neither  father  nor 
mother,  but  has  lived  with  an  uncle  near  the  city,  —  he 
didn't  say  Avhere,  —  and  always  did  about  as  he  pleased  ; 
but  I  will  ask  him  particularly,  if  you  say  so,"  said 
Sam,  with  a  laugh. 

"  If  you  dare  !  "  exclaimed  Kate,  with  a  stamp  of  the 
foot  by  way  of  emphasis.  "  I  was  only  thinking  about 
it  on  your  account ;  as,  indeed,  mamma  and  I  do  almost 
every  thing  on  your  account  in  these  days."  With 
a  half-consciousness  that  this  was  true,  Sam  ventured 
no  reply. 

George  Villiers  had,  as  he  said,  been  allowed  to  do 
very  much  as  he  pleased ;  but  it  had  been,  and  was 
still,  his  pleasure  to  pursue  a  very  different  course  from 
that  which  most  young  fellows  would  have  followed. 
Thorough  integrity  seemed  to  be  the  keynote  of  his 
character ;  and  one  might  as  well  try  to  move  a  moun- 
tain as  to  endeavor  to  persuade  him  to  do  any  thing 
which  he  did  not  believe  to  be  strictly  right.  As  dili- 
gence was,  with  him,  only  another  name  for  common 
honesty,  whatever  he  did  undertake  he  strove  with  all 
his  might  to  accomplish ;  and  at  this  time  he  was  a 
curious  compound  of  wisdom  and  ignorance,  profound- 
ness and  simplicity.  He  had  never  seen  the  inside  of 
a  theatre,  or  a  billiard-saloon,  or  a  bar-room.  Sam 
said  he  believed  he  was  the  only  man  in  the  class  who 
never  took  advantage  of  translations,  or  "  ponies "  as 


THE  AVEXTTTOETHS. 


tliev  call  tliem,  at  some  time  or  other.  T^ritli  his 
singular  appearance  and  graye  manner  and  his  other 
equally  peculiar  traits,  he  could  not  have  many  friends 
or  admirers  among  a  class  of  thoughtless  yotmg  fello"^;vs  ; 
and  he  was  voted  a  most  unmitigated  ^-  dig  "  by  those 
of  his  classmates  who  noticed  him  at  ail,  at  least  during 
Freshman  year. 

Tlie  tAYO  ladies,  however,  judged  him  more  kindly 
and  more  justly.  His  regard  fur  i\lrs.  "Went worth  was 
reciprocated  by  her  from  the  first.  AVith  her  delicate 
perceptions  she  saw  the  strength  of  character  and 
nobility  of  purpose  that  possessed  liim  :  and  she  rejoiced 
that  it  was  possible  for  her  son.  on  whom,  as  Kate  had 
truly  said,  all  her  tlioughts  were  centred  in  those  days, 
to  have  so  rare  a  friend.  Kate  vras  a  latio-hter-lovins^ 
girl :  and  she  could  not  restrain  herself  at  times,  when 
witli  her  motlier  or  brother,  at  the  recollection  of  some 
of  Villiers's  cimous  ways ;  but  a  little  acquaintance 
with  the  object  of  her  mirth  served  to  imbtie  her  witli  a 
thorough  respect  for  him:  and  tliis  increased,  while  she 
noticed  his  peculiarities  less,  as  tlieir  accjuaintance  pro- 
gressed. There  was  scarcely  any  point  about  which  she 
knew  a  little.  —  and  she  Avas  an  extremely  well  read 
and  cultivated  vouno;  ladv.  —  that  he  did  not  know  a 
good  deal,  more  thoroughly:  and  they  had  many  a 
pleasant  talk  together  during  this  summer-time. 

"  It  is  a  pity,  isn't  it,  mamma,  that  Sam  couldn't 
chum  witli  i\Ir.  Villiers  ?    Tliey  would  get  on  nicely 
toci^ether.  Fm  sure  :  and  he  has  a  room  all  alone.*' 
I  do  wish  it  had  happened  so."' 

It  can't  be  helped  now.  I  know ;  but,"  she  con- 
tinued, with  a  flush  of  entliusiasm,     I  know  what  I 


36  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVABD. 

am  going  to  do,  though  I  wouldn't  dare  if  it  were  any 
one  else."  One  day,  towards  the  last  of  his  stay,  she 
said  to  him  suddenly,  "  Mr.  Villiers,  I  shall  expect  you 
to  take  famous  care  of  Sam  next  year.  He  is  as  good 
a  boy  at  heart  as  any,  but  very  impulsive  and  thought- 
less. Mamma  is  very  anxious  about  him,  and  fears  he 
may  get  into  trouble  ;  and  I  am  sure  she  would  feel  that 
there  was  much  less  danger  if  you  would  look  after  him 
a  little,  and  let  us  know  if  any  thing  goes  wrong." 

Though  Kate's  face  became  crimson,  Villiers  was  too 
much  confused  himself  to  notice  it ;  for  never  was  a 
young  man  more  taken  aback.  "  Your  brother.  Miss 
Wentworth,  —  he  is  really  older  than  I  am,  and  —  and 
—  cannot  well  be  more  inexperienced.  I  hope  I  may 
always  be  his  friend;  and,"  looking  straight  into  her 
eyes,  "  I  assure  you,  you  shall  hear  from  me  if  need  be, 
though  I  trust  and  am  sure  such  an  occasion  will  never 
come." 

"  I  am  sure  I  thank  you  very  much,  and  so  does 
mamma,"  said  the  young  lady  now  cool  enough,  extend- 
ing her  hand,  which  Villiers  thus  touched  for  the  first 
time. 


III. 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  EEGUI ATIONS. 

At  the  beginning  of  each  college  year,  indications 
of  an  active  eruption  were  wont  to  manifest  themselves 
for  several  days  about  the  yard  and  buildings,  it  being 
the  custom  for  every  one  to  move  into  what  was  con- 
sidered a  better  room ;  and  for  the  time  confusion 
reigned.  Handcarts  stood  before  the  doors  of  the 
dormitories ;  and,  piled  on  the  walks  or  steps,  would  be 
seen  heaps  of  books,  furniture,  bedding,  pictures,  the 
household  goods  and  gods  of  the  students,  in  lamenta- 
ble disorder,  while  the  owners  rushed  wildly  about 
superintending  the  process  of  transportation.  The 
moving  used  to  be  conducted  by  divers  members  of 
the  Fenian  brotherhood,  whose  charges  were  something 
enormous.  These  destroyers  of  student  property,  as 
they  had  an  opportunity  to  exercise  their  skill  but 
once  a  year,  seemed  possessed  of  a  determination  to 
break  and  injure  to  the  utmost. 

It  was  on  a  beautiful  September  morning  that  our 
young  student  made  his  way  across  the  already  busy 
square,  and  through  heaps  of  luggage  mounted  the 
steps  of  College  House,  to  room  No.  18,  the  door  of 
which  was  securely  fastened.  Some  one  told  him  that 
"  John  Read  "  could  give  him  the  key ;  and  he  started  off 

37 


38 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


in  quest  of  that  functionary,  remembering  him  well  too 
from  his  previous  interview.  He  encountered  the  good- 
natured  old  Irishman,  bent  nearly  double  by  rheuma- 
tism, or  by  the  constant  exercise  of  humility ;  for  he 
was  the  lowest  in  rank,  though  by  no  means  the  least 
useful,  of  all  the  college  officials,  in  front  of  HoUis. 
The  reflection  that  he  came  lowest  in  the  college 
hierarchy,  and  that  there  were  so  many  towering  one 
above  another,  and  all  resting  on  his  shoulders,  might 
well  bow  him  down.  In  true  college  style  of  irrespons- 
ibility, straightening  himself  up  to  get  a  fair  look  at 
the  new-comer,  he  referred  Sam  to  the  steward,  and  was 
almost  instantly  whisked  away  by  an  impatient  Sopho- 
more, to  unlock  a  door,  or  hunt  up  a  missing  carpet. 

At  length  the  young  student  entered  his  dormitory, 
his  home  for  the  coming  year.  The  room  had  been 
cleaned  and  garnished  after  the  usual  fashion.  A  coat  of 
very  thin  bluish-white  paint  served  to  render  the  many 
dark  stains  on  the  woodwork  especially  prominent.  A 
similarly  effective  coating  of  whitewash  showed  that  at 
some  time  the  gas  had  been  left  burning  too  high,  and 
had  blackened  the  ceiling.  A  lock  of  enormous  size 
had  been  put  on  above  the  place  where  the  old  one 
used  to  be ;  and  a  piece  of  new  wood  which  had  been 
fitted  into  the  door,  and  sundry  large  cracks  in  the 
panels,  bore  witness  to  the  terrible  strains  it  had  at 
some  time  endured.  That  door  looked  ominous  :  it  had 
precisely  the  appearance  of  having  been  violently  burst 
open  when  securely  fastened.  As  Sam  threw  open  the 
windows,  a  strong  odor  greeted  him  from  some  salt-fish 
spread  out  to  dry  in  the  yard  of  the  grocery-store  be- 
low.   There  were  also  sundry  empty  sugar-boxes  and 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  REGULATIONS. 


39 


molasses-casks  swarming  with  flies,  and  a  pile  of  rub- 
bish of  all  kinds,  —  not  a  very  pleasant  prospect  below; 
and  the  range  of  vision  was  limited,  by  the  rear  of 
neighboring  buildings,  to  a  hundred  yards  at  the  far- 
thest. To  a  lad  delicate  perchance,  and  delicatelj^ 
and  luxuriously  reared,  unused  to  absence  from  home, 
and  dreading  the  contact  with  strangers,  the  reception 
which  the  college  used  to  extend  with  its  barren,  un- 
comfortable, and  even  unheal thful  Freshman  quarters, 
and  utter  lack  of  protection  from  Sophomore  terrorism, 
was  often  any  thing  but  re-assuring. 

Two  men  were  carrying  a  heavy  bookcase  through 
the  entry ;  and  the  owner  was  shouting  to  them  to  be 
careful.  The  voice  sounded  familiar,  and  Sam  went  to 
the  door  to  look.  Yes,  it  was  the  Junior  who  dined  with 
him  on  examination-day,  as  brown  as  a  mulatto,  from  a 
tramp  through  tlie  mountains  with  half  a  dozen  jolly 
fellows.  Suddenly  he  caught  sight  of  Sam,  who  stood 
modestly  waiting  to  be  noticed.  Why  !  how  are  you, 
Smith,  —  no,  Wentivorth?'^  he  exclaimed,  grasping  his 
hand.  Room  here  ?  "  looking  in.  "  I'm  opposite  just 
down  there,  and  you  must  be  neighborly.  Got  a 
chum  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  a  splendid  fellow  by  the  name  of  Hunting- 
don.'' 

H'm,"  with  a  doubtful  inflection.  "  That  swell  fel- 
low from  New —  Look  out  there! "and  he  darted 
down  the  entry  to  save  his  property  if  possible,  return- 
ing, however,  almost  immediately. 

Oh !  Wentvv^orth,  if  you  haven't  bought  a  carpet,  I 
have  one  that  I  can  let  you  have  at  your  own  price. 
It's  good  enough  for  anybody,  —  the  one  I  had  last 


40 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


year,  you  know,  —  only,  when  a  fellow  gets  to  be  a 
Junior,  he  must  swell  a  little  if  he's  ever  going  to  in 
this  life :  so  I've  bought  a  new  one,  particularly  as  the 
old  gent  came  down  handsomely  this  year.  Now,  if 
you  want  to  see  it,  and  like  it,  you  may  have  it  for 
eight  dollars.    Kernel  would  give  me  twice  that ;  but 

I  be  if  I  wouldn't  give  any  thing  away  before  I'd 

sell  it  to  Kernel.    Want  to  see  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Sam ;  and  the  two  disappeared 
down  the  stairs. 

The  carpet,  albeit  a  little  worn,  would  do  very  well, 
Sam  thought ;  and,  as  economy  was  one  of  the  very 
numerous  virtues  he  had  within  the  last  few  days 
resolved  to  practise,  he  bought  it  at  once,  and  with 
Haskill's  assistance  carried  it  from  the  basement  of 
HoUis,  where  it  had  been  stored,  to  his  room.  Then 
investing  in  a  paper  of  tacks,  a  hatchet,  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors, and  needles  and  thread,  he  worked  for  two  hours 
like  a  beaver,  fitting  and  putting  it  down.  This  task 
being  satisfactorily  accomplished,  he  had  borrowed  a 
chair  of  Haskill,  and  was  resting  from  his  labors,  wip- 
ing the  perspiration  from  his  face,  and  sitting  tipped 
back  in  the  chair,  with  his  feet  on  the  rounds,  when 
three  or  four  Sophomores  came  trooping  down  the 
entry,  and  looked  in  through  the  wide-open  door. 

"  Wonder  what  there  is  in  here,"  said  one. 

"  Freshy,  I  guess,  by  the  looks,"  said  a  second. 

"Hallo!  are  3^ou  a  Freshman?"  called  out  the  first 
speaker ;  and  in  they  came,  four  of  them,  nice  pleasant 
young  fellows  too,  Sam  thought,  though,  from  what  he 
knew  of  college  etiquette,  he  took  it  for  gran^ted  tha 
they  were  going  to  haze  him. 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  EEGULATIOXS.  41 


"I  say,  did  I  understand  you  to  say  you  were  a 
Freshman  ?  " 

Fresliman  ? "  said  Sam,  in  a  voice  which  was 
intended  to  express  surprise,  though  without  distin- 
guished success.  "  I  don't  know  wiiat  you  mean  :  Fm  , 
the  new  professor  of  Hindostanee ;  "  and  he  fell  to 
duping  his  face,  which  grew  warmer  CA'ery  minute.  By 
this  time  the  visitors  had  come  close  to  him ;  and  one 
gave  the  chair  a  downward  push,  which  brought  it  on 
to  its  four  legs  with  a  jerk  that  nearly  sent  its  occupant 
to  the  floor.  Sam  promptly  resumed  liis  former  posi- 
tion, thouofh  much  more  ill  at  ease. 

"  So  you  are  the  new  professor,  are  you?  "  asked  the 
same  interrogator  with  a  grin. 

'^Yes.'' 

"Yes  what?" 
Sam  was  silent. 

"  You  mean  '  Yes,  sir,'  don't  you  ?  It's  polite,  you 
know,  for  a  Freshman  to  say  '  Yes,  sir '  to  a  Sopho- 
more :  didn't  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  Ko,  I  didn't." 

"  You  mean  '  Xo,  sir : '  say  so,"  in  a  firm  voice. 
Sam  hesitated :  after  all,  it  was  nothing,  and  he  said, 
"  Xo,  sir." 

"  Xow  say,  '  Yes,  sir.'  " 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  There,  that's  right,  and  just  as  well  as  being  obsti- 
nate. You  never  will  have  any  trouble  at  college  if 
you  are  not  obstinate ; ''  and  again  he  gave  the  chair  a 
downward,  push,  which  brought  it  into  its  normal  posi- 
tion. Yy^hy  in  thunder  don't  you  sit  still  ?  yott  were 
near  coming  down  on  my  foot  that  time,"  and  the  laugh 
went  round  at  Sam's  expense. 


4.2 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


"  Look  here,  Freshy,"  said  a  dark,  straight,  plucky- 
looking  fellow  with  a  piercing  black  eye,  "  haven't  you 
any  more  manners  than  to  sit,  and  allow  your  company 
to  remain  standing,  especially  when  they  are  your  supe- 
riors?" 

"  You  see  I  have  only  one  chair,  and  what  is  that 
among  so  many  ?  It  would  only  be  a  bone  of  conten- 
tion." 

"  Good  !  Freshy's  found  his  tongue  at  last,  haven't  you, 
Freshy  ?  And  now  let's  have  him  read  some  Greek. 
Producing  a  small  morocco  bound  volume  from  his 
pocket,  the  Sophomore  opened  it,  and  held  it  before 
Sam's  face  with  the  injunction  to  go  ahead,  while  a 
second  gave  his  head  a  bob  forward,  as  he  vainly  tried 
to  fix  his  eyes  upon  the  page. 

"  That's  right,  only  a  little  louder :  we  are  rather 
hard  of  hearing,"  said  the  holder  of  the  book,  as  Sam 
found  it  impossible  to  fix  his  eyes  on  a  single  word. 
"  Come,  louder,  I  say !  " 

Our  young  friend  was  waxing  wroth :  his  good- 
nature was  almost  his  most  prominent  characteristic, 
and  never  gave  way  before  any  reasonable  amount  of 
nonsense ;  but  to  have  hands  laid  on  him  was  too  much. 

"  You  forget,"  he  said ;  "  I  don't  profess  Greek : 
Hindostanee  is  my  language,  and  I  can't  read  Greek  at 
all." 

"  By  !  you  shall  read  it  whether  you  understand 

it  or  not,"  said  the  holder  of  the  book  savagely: 
"  what's  that  first  word  ?  " 

Sam  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  swung  his  chair  aloft  with 
both  hands. 

"  Come,"  said  the  one  who  had  thus  far  been  quiet, 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  REGULATIONS.  43 


"  he'll  get  mad  yet,  and  bite  somebody :  leave  him 
alone  till  some  other  time.  Let's  wait  till  he  gets  rid  of 
some  of  his  furniture,"  glancing  round  at  the  empty 
room,  "so  that  when  we  come  again  we  can  at  least 
have  standing-room." 

"  Good-by,"  said  he  of  the  black  eyes,  shaking  Sam's 
hand.  "  You're  a  good  fellow,  and  plucky ;  and  I'm 
glad  to  have  met  you.    My  name  is  Wilkinson." 

"  Don't  forget  to  call  on  the  President  this  afternoon, 
and  pay  him  your  compliments ;  "  and  away  went  the 
jolly  Sophomores  down  the  stairs  in  great  glee. 

Such  was  Sam's  first  experience  with  the  truculent 
Sophomores,  of  whose  outrages  he  had  heard  so  much. 
He  could  not  help  feeling  that  he  had  at  least  met 
the  enemy  without  being  badly  worsted.  Hardly  had  the 
last  one  left  the  room,  before  Haskill  appeared  in  the 
doorway  divested  of  coat,  waistcoat,  and  shoes,  —  his 
regular  lounging-costume  in  warm  weather,  —  pipe  in 
mouth,  hands  in  pockets,  and  his  short  light  hair  stand- 
ing out  in  all  directions. 

"  So  they've  been  roughing  you  a  little,"  he  said 
with  a  very  satisfied  laugh,  Sam  thought.  "  How  do 
you  like  being  hazed  ?  " 

"  Oh,  pretty  well ;  only  it  seems  a  cool  proceeding  to 
come  into  a  man's  room  uninvited,  and  then  insult  him, 
and  not  particularly  fair  when  you  are  three  or  four  to 
one.    I  was  near  pitching  into  them  at  last." 

"  Glad  you  didn't :  best  keep  your  temper,  and  not 
show  ugly;  it  only  cooks  up  a  bad  class  feeling,  and 
there's  always  enough  of  that  any  way.  Generally 
they  only  want  to  see  what  the  new-comers  are  made 
of,  though  when  they  get  started  they  do  carry  the 


44 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


joke  pretty  far  sometimes,  particularly  if  one  shows 
the  white  feather.  But  I  was  surprised  tliat  those  fellows 
molested  you :  they  think  an  awful  lot  of  themselves ; 
and  it  isn't  often  that  a  man  who  considers  himself  a 
gentleman  will  take  any  part  in  hazing,  unless  the  class 
honor  is  involved,  or  something  like  that,  you  know.  If 
they  come  to  see  you  again,  it  will  be  as  friends ;  and 
you'll  be  in  luck  to  know  them.  I  thought  I'd  better 
keep  shady,  and  let  you  figure  it  out  yourself,  though 
I  don't  mean  to  have  you  hazed,  if  I  know  myself. 
Didn't  one  of  them  shake  hands  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  Wilkinson  he  said  his  name  was." 

"  He's  to  be  captain  of  the  '  Harvard '  this  year,  and 
is  the  best  oar  in  college,  and  is  the  second  or  third  man 
in  his  class,  a  mighty  strong  class  too ;  and  that  Parker 
is  just  about  the  nobbiest  boy  I  ever  saw.  Come  along : 
its  grub-time,  and  my  turn  to  treat." 

Returning  from  Kent's,  they  found  Huntingdon  just 
arrived.  He  greeted  Sam  warmly,  smiled  approval  at 
the  carpet,  and  then  briskly  suggested  that  they  had 
better  go  and  see  Kernel.  We  must  sleep  here  to- 
night ;  it's  three  o'clock  now,  and  the  sooner  we  stock 
up  the  better,  eh,  chum  ?  '* 

"  Well,  if  you  do  go  to  Kernel's,  just  look  out  you 
don't  pay  him  more  for  his  old  traps  than  you  can  get 
new  ones  for,"  said  the  Junior,  who  had  replenished  and 
lighted  his  meerschaum,  —  a  beautifully  colored  bowl, — 
for  his  afternoon  smoke.  "  He  has  a  way  of  asking  more 
for  old  things,  that  have  been  used  for  twenty  years, 
than  you  need  pay  for  new.  I  never  got  swindled  by 
the  old  Jew  myself;  but  I've  seen  other  fellows  sold  so 
bad,  that  I've  sworn  a  solemn  oath  never  to  have  any 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  EEGULATIOXS.  45 


tiling  to  do  with  him.  I'd  sooner  give  any  thing  away 
to  somebody  wlio  could  get  some  good  out  of  it,  than 
sell  it  to  such  an  old  Jew  as  he  is,  no  matter  how  much 
he  would  give ;  and,  as  for  buying  any  thing  there, 
why,  if  I  belieyed  in  patronizing  dishonesty,  perhaps  I 
would;  but  then  I  don't,  you  know."  And  the  Junior 
by  way  of  emphasis  took  a  long  pull  at  his  pipe,  and 
sent  two  or  three  fine  rino-s  of  smoke  oTacefully  sailiuQ; 
across  the  room,  to  the  great  admiration  of  Sam,  who 
had  neyer  seen  that  cleA'er  trick  done  before. 

Durins:  this  haranc^ue  Huntino-don  had  criven  one 

O  c3  o  o 

short  contemptuous  look  at  the  speaker,  and  thereafter 
ignored  his  existence,  as  he  knew  so  well  how  to  do. 
Sam  observing  his  inattention,  and  recollecting  that  the 
two  had  never  met  before,  promptly  introduced  his 
chum. 

"Ah,  glad  to  see  you,"  exclaimed  Haskill,  drawing 
one  hand  from  one  pocket,  and  for  a  moment  removing 
his  pipe  from  between  his  teeth,  and  the  other  hand 
from  the  other  pocket,  and  extending  it  towards  Hunt- 
ingdon, who  without  a  word  just  touched  it  for  an 
instant  as  if  he  were  afraid  it  was  clirtv ;  then,  draAving 
his  arm  through  Sam's,  Come,  chum  :  we  haven't  any 
time  to  lose.  —  Happy  to  have  you  call  again,  sir,"  with  a 
bow  to  the  Junior ;  and  the  two  voung  men,  our  hero 
not  quite  understanding  it  all,  took  their  departure  for 
Kernel's. 

"  By  said  Haskill  between  Ms  teeth,  as  he  made 

his  way  back  to  his  room,  "  that  is  a  little  the  cheekiest 
and  most  impudent  fellow  I  ever  saw  yet ;  and  that's 
saying  a  good  deal,  for  there  are  some  mighty  swelly 
and  conceited  chaps  in  this  old  mill,  especially  among 


46 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


the  Seniors.  What  won't  that  man  be  before  he  grada 
ates,  if  he  is  only  permitted  to  keep  on  ?  Ah,  but  won't 
he  get  taken  down?"  and  the  little  fellow  rubbed  his 
hands  gleefully  at  the  thought.  "  Wouldn't  I  be  one 
of  a  crowd  to  put  him  under  the  pump,  if  I  aon  a  Junior ! 
I'm  sorry  for  that  Wentworth :  he's  a  good  fellow,  but 
dead  sure  to  be  an  ass  in  such  company." 

Kernel's  was  as  much  an  appendage  of  the  college 
as  the  steward's  office,  the  college  book-store,  or  even 
the  regent's.  The  proprietor  of  the  establishment 
gained  an  honest  livelihood  by  buying  furniture,  carpets, 
pictures,  and  the  like,  of  the  students  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  or,  indeed,  at  any  time  when  one  of  them  was 
"  hard  up,"  at  the  least  possible  price,  and  selling  them, 
as  opportunity  offered,  at  the  greatest  possible  price.  As 
those  who  sold  were  for  the  most  part  in  immediate 
need  of  money,  aiid  eager  to  realize  on  their  property, 
for  which  Kernel  paid  cash,  while  those  who  bought 
were  careless  and  a  little  "  flush,"  he  was  often  able  to 
sell  at  many  hundred  per  cent  advance  on  cost,  and 
realize  a  very  pretty  profit.  Were  it  not  that  his  sphere 
of  activity  was  necessarily  limited,  he  might  have 
aspired  to  rival  the  most  princely  merchant  in  his  gains ; 
but,  as  it  was,  the  business  supported  only  a  spavined 
horse  and  a  boy.  The  man  himself  was  a  curiosity ; 
short,  red-faced,  sober  and  honest-looking  withal,  with 
eyes  suffused  with  tears  as  occasion  required,  and  a  voice 
to  move  the  heart  with  its  husky  tearfulness.  He  never 
permitted  his  saddened  countenance  to  relax  into  a  cheer- 
ful smile,  nor  his  mournful  voice  to  assume  a  natural 
tone,  even  at  the  conclusion  of  a  most  profitable  bargain. 


HOTV  SAM  SIGNED  THE  EEGULATIONS. 


47 


How  well  students  remember  him !  Notiiing  that 
they  had  to  sell  was  ever  of  any  value.  A  carpet,  —  it 
was  either  too  large  or  too  small,  or  too  much  worn ;  at 
all  events,  it  would  not  be  salable.  A  piece  of  furni- 
ture,—  it  was  rickety  or  old-fashioned;  of  no  use  to 
anybody,  particularly  to  him.  It  was  wonderful  how 
the  market  value  of  the  same  article  changed,  when 
once  transferred  to  his  shop.  It  was  curious,  too,  how 
well  he  knew  whom  to  trust.  No  student  with  a  slen- 
der or  precarious  income  ever  found  credit  with  him. 

Our  friends  had  the  advantage  of  calling  on  him 
before  the  rush  had  come  ;  and  they  found  his  shop  in 
its  most  inviting  aspect,  with  all  its  old  rubbish  re- 
vamped and  varnished,  patched  and  furbished,  and  the 
stubby  little  man  himself  standing  ready  at  the  door  to 
greet  them. 

"  Good-day,  gentlemen,"  said  Kernel,  rubbing  his 
hands,  and  allowing  a  tear  to  steal  down  either  cheek. 
"  What  can  I  do  for  you  to-day,  gentlemen  ?  carpets, 
tables,  chairs,  lounges,  bookcases,  bureaus,  bedsteads, 
mattresses,  pictures,"  he  rapidly  continued  in  a  husky 
voice,  and  with  a  long  drawn-out  rising  inflection. 
"  I've  got  a  splendid  assortment  to-day,  gentlemen : 
guess  I  can  suit  you  to-day."  After  some  little  delay 
our  friends  made  a  list  of  such  articles  as  they  required, 
with  the  prices. 

"Where  shall  I  send  them,  gentlemen  ?  "  asked  the 
fiirniture-vender,  pencil  and  note-book  in  hand,  and 
with  the  deepest  emotion. 

"  We  will  look  a  little  farther  before  purchasing," 
replied  Huntingdon. 

"  You  won't  get  them  any  cheaper  for  the  quality  of 


48 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAKD. 


the  goods,  you  may  be  sure,"  sounded  after  them  as 
they  left  the  shop. 

But  they  did  find  a  cheaper  place,  and  new  furniture 
too,  a  few  doors  farther  on. 

In  the  evening  Sam  went  to  hunt  up  his  friend  Vil- 
liers  in  the  entry  above,  where  he  had  a  room  to  him- 
self, and  was  made  acquainted  with  Fred  Lewis,  "  A 
classmate  and  a  very  near  neighbor  of  yours  too,"  said 
Villiers. 

"  Yes :  I'm  proctor's  Freshman ;  and  besides  a  front 
room  all  to  myself,  I  am  supposed  to  be  under  the 
especial  protection  of  that  dignitary,"  said  Lewis,  with 
a  pleasant  laugh. 

"  He  looks  as  though  he  needed  to  be  protected  by 
somebody,  doesn't  he  ?  "  said  Villiers. 

"  I  should  think  as  much,"  replied  Sam,  viewing 
Lewis's  broad  proportions  (he  was  the  most  muscular 
man  in  the  class).  "  What  do  you  have  to  do  in  return 
for  all  these  good  things  ?  " 

"  I'm  blessed  if  I  know,  but  I  suppose  I  shall  in  good 
time ; "  and  the  big  Freshman  lounged  awkwardly 
enough  out  of  the  room,  with  a  hearty  invitation  for 
them  to  be  neighborly.  Then  the  two  friends  had  a 
quiet,  restful  talk  about  the  summer,  and  the  coming 
term  with  its  new  and  trying  experiences;  and  Sam 
certainly  slept  the  happier  that  night  for  his  call  on 
Villiers. 

The  next  two  days  were  devoted  to  getting  the 
condition  disposed  of ;  hunting  up  a  boarding-house,  — 
though  Sam  soon  after  joined  a  club-table ;  purchasing 
the  necessary  books,  and  making  acquaintances.  Fri- 
day afternoon  somebody  dropped  a  note,  directed  to  Mr. 


HOW  SAM  SIGNED  THE  REGULATIOXS. 


49 


Samuel  Went^orth,  into  his  room.  It  was  done  sc 
quickly  that  Sam  did  not  catch  sight  of  the  messenger. 
The  note  stated  that  the  President  mshed  to  see  Mr. 
Wentworth  at  his  office  at  four  o'clock  that  afternoon, 
and  was  duly  signed.  Yv'hat  business  the  President 
could  have  with  him  was  more  than  Sam  could  compre- 
hend. He  thought  he  must  have  done  the  paper  on  the 
condition  correctly.  Y>^as  it  possible  that  he  might  be 
sent  home,  after  all  ?  It  was  with  a  good  deal  of  sohci- 
tude  that  at  the  appointed  hour  he  knocked  at  the 
door  of  the  President's  room. 

"  Come  I  "  sounded  sharply  from  within  ;  and  enter- 
ing, Sam  recognized  the  pleasant  face  of  the  gentleman 
who  had  handed  him  his  admission-papers  on  that  hot 
and  unhappy  July  eyening. 

"  Mr.  AVent worth,"  said  Sam,  bowing  modestly,  and 
drawing  near,  note  in  hand. 

"  Ah,  how  do  3-0U  do,  Mr.  Wentworth  ?  "  said  the 
President,  looking  up  from  his  writing,  with  an  inquir- 
ing smile. 

"  You  wished  to  see  me,"  said  Sam,  after  waiting  a 
moment  for  the  reyerend  President  to  come  to  busi- 
ness ;  but  of  this  fact  the  reyerend  President  seemed 
not  to  be  aware. 

"  I  receiyed  a  note  from  you,"  said  the  young  man, 
extending  the  summons.  The  President  took  it,  read 
it,  and  again  the  pleasant  smile  spread  oyer  his  face. 

"  Xo.  I  didn't  want  you  for  any  thing,  Mr.  Went- 
worth. It  was  a  Sophomore  hoax,  I  suppose;  "  and  he 
handed  the  note  back. 

"  A  what  ?  "  said  Sam,  a  little  dumbfounded. 

"A  —  a  Sophomore  hoax,  that  is  all;  and  not  a 


60.  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

very  good  imitation  either.  See,  here  is-  my  signature 
and  the  college  form,"  showing  a  printed  form  with  his 
signature  in  the  corner;  "but  you  couldn't  know  that, 
of  course.  You  may  rest  easy,  Mr.  Wentworth,"  he 
continued  good-naturedly :  ''I  shall  never  mention  it, 
and  I  am  sure  you  won't."  Then,  seeing  that  the 
young  man  was  a  little  dazed,  "  You  can  sign  the  regu- 
lations, now  that  you  are  here,  if  you  like  ;  and  then 
you  won't  have  had  your  errand  for  nothing ;  "  and  he 
called,  "  Mr.  Harris  !  "  and  turned  to  his  writing. 

So  Sam  signed  the  regulations,  and  went  back  to  his 
room,  feeling  well  pleased  that  he  had  kept  the  secret 
of  the  note  to  himself,  as  his  errand  to  the  President's 
office  might  have  been  a  difficult  one  to  explain. 


IV. 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 

Saturday  and  Sunday  passed  quietly ;  and  on  Monday 
morning  the  round  of  college-life  fairly  began.  There 
were  daily  prayers  in  the  chapel  at  a  quarter  of  seven 
in  the  morning,  followed  by  an  hour  for  breakfast,  and 
then  the  three  recitations  of  an  hour  each ;  one  at  eight 
o'clock,  one  at  noon,  and  one  at  four.  All  the  classes, 
and  particularly  the  Freshman,  v/ent  to  work  with* a 
will.  Once  in  motion,  the  great  machine  runs  more 
smoothly  every  day;  and  the  tasks  follow  each  other 
with  a  regularity  that  keeps  every  one  busy.  But 
there  is  nothing  monotonous  about  a  Freshman's  first 
term  ;  for  in  addition  to  the  novelty  of  the  life  itself, 
so  different  from  what  he  has  had  at  home,  there  is 
certain  to  be  some  interesting  experience  for  every  one, 
which  together  with  the  hazing,  that  is  expected,  even 
if  it  never  comes,  makes  the  first  six  months  not  the 
least  exciting  period  of  the  entire  four  years.  Some 
extracts  from  the  letters  which  Sam  wrote  home  at  this 
time  will  give  a  good  idea  of  how  it  fared  with  him. 

The  first  Monday  night  of  -the  year,"  he  wrote,  "  is 
called  '  bloody  Monday  night,'  and  is  the  traditional 
time  for  hazing  Freshmen  ;  because  there  is  ahvays  a 
Facalty  mxeeting,  and  the  Freshmen  are  consequently 

61 


52 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


unprotected ;  and  because  tliey  have  not  had  time  to  be- 
come much  acquainted  :  at  least,  so  chum  says.  It  has 
been  the  custom  for  I  don't  know  how  long,  to  have  a 
game  of  foot-ball  on  the  '  Delta,'  about  sunset,  between 
the  Sophomores  and  Freshmen.  The  game  has  always 
been  rough ;  once  or  twice  limbs  have  been  broken,  and 
it  almost  always  ended  in  a  fight  between  the  two 
classes  :  so  that  it  had  gradually  grown  into  disfavor 
with  the  Faculty.  Last  year  they  determined  to  stop 
it,  decreed  that  there  should  be  no  more  foot-ball,  and 
gave  the  present  Sophomore  class  instructions  not  to 
participate  in  the  game.  Of  course  the  decree  of  the 
Faculty  was  felt  to  be  an  injustice ;  and  not  a  little 
curiosity  was  manifested  as  to  whether  the  Sophs, 
would  heed  the  order,  or  be  plucky  enough  to  carry 
through  the  annual  contest  in  spite  of  it. 

"  Monday  morning,  as  a  Sophomore  who  has  a  room 
down  the  entry  was  passing  the  door,  chum  called  out, 
Is  there  going  to  be  a  foot-ball  on  the  Delta  this  even- 
ing ?  '  It  was  an  impudent  question  under  the  circum- 
stances ;  but  chum  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  Tlie 
Soph,  put  on  a  scowl,  and  growled  out,  '  There  will  be 

a  foot-ball  there  fast  enough,  if  you  Freshmen 

dare  to  kick  it.' 

••'Of  course  ive  had  received  no  warning  from  the 
Faculty,  and  were  not  supposed  to  know  any  thing 
about  Faculty  decrees.  All  day  long  chum  was  around 
at  the  different  rooms,  drumming  up  recruits,  and,  to 
make  sure,  notes  were  circulated  at  recitations ;  and  the 
result  was  a  great  turn-out  on  the  part  of  our  men,  — 
more  than  eighty,  Huntingdon  said,  under  his  leader- 
ship.   There  were  not  more  than  half  as  many  Sophs. ; 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 


53 


but  tliey  were  desperate-looking  fellows,  with  old  hats, 
and  coats  turned  inside  out,  or  disguised  in  some  way, 
so  that  in  case  any  of  the  Faculty  should  come  around 
to  '  spot '  them,  as  they  probably  would,  they  might 
confound  them  in  their  evil  intentions. 

"  We  were  all  assembled  on  the  Delta,  a  fine  triangle 
of  ground  surrounded  by  large  elms,  —  the  play-ground 
of  the  college,  by  seven  o'clock,  we  facing  east,  and 
the  Sophs,  west ;  when  one  of  them  came  forward, 
and  threw  down  the  ball  into  the  open  space  between 
us ;  then  with  a  yell  they  rushed  forward,  and  it  went 
flying  over  our  heads,  before  I  had  time  to  think  about 
it.  In  less  than  two  minutes  there  was  just  the  grand- 
est scuffle  and  confusion  I  ever  saw ;  it  was  hard  to  tell 
friend  from  foe,  and  more  than  one  pair  rolled  over  in 
the  dust ;  but  it  was  not  long,  or  it  did  not  seem  long, 
before  the  ball  was  well  down  to  the  east  end  of  the 
Delta :  then  there  was  a  tremendous  tussle  for  ten 
minutes ;  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  the  ball  fell  close 
to  the  fence  and  near  where  I  was.  Fred  Lewis  and 
mj^self  both  ran  to  send  it  home.  A  Sophomore  was 
making  desperate  exertions  to  reach  it  too,  and  we 
three  were  much  nearer  than  any  one  else  :  so  I  called 
out  to  Lewis,  who  was  a  little  beliind  me,  to  look  out 
for  the  ball,  and  I  would  take  care  of  the  Sophomore. 
He  saw  what  I  meant  to  do,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  my 
face,  which  I  dodged ;  and  we  both  went  down.  I 
couldn't  see  the  ball  or  any  thing  else  for  a  time ;  but  I 
heard  our  men  yell,  and  the  crowd  around  the  Delta 
clap  their  hands,  and  knew  that  the  game  was 
won ;  and  then  we  two  were  on  our  feet,  picking  up 
our  hats.     'No  offence,'  I  said  to  the  Sophomore; 


54 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


'  I  couldn't  help  it  very  v/ell.'  — '  Oh,  no  !  that's  all 
right,'  said  he.  He  looked  as  though  it  was  all  wrong 
though ;  and  I  recognized  him  as  the  one  who  had 
called  us  Freshmen,  in  answer  to  chum's  ques- 
tion in  the  morning.  The  fellows  were  wild  with 
excitement  and  delight  at  having  beaten  the  Sophs., 
though  it  was  really  no  great  achievement,  we  were 
so  much  more  numerous  than  they ;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  we  could  get  into  position  for  a  second 
game.  This  was  shorter  than  the  first,  because  after 
beating  them  we  no  longer  felt  afraid,  as  I  suppose 
every  one  did  (I  know  I  did)  at  first.  It  was  dark  by 
this  time.  Some  of  the  crowd  who  had  lined  the  fence 
jumped  over,  and  joined  in  the  fun ;  and  the  kicking 
and  jostling  and  shouting  continued  long  after  the  ball 
was  sent  home.  There  then  was  a  great  cheering  by 
the  Sophs,  and  by  our  men,  and  by  the  crowd  outside, 
which  now  comprised  pretty  much  the  whole  college  ; 
and  after  a  time  we  broke  up."  .  . 

Though  Sam's  letters  home  were  very  replete  with 
information,  he  did  not  tell  all  the  adventures  he  par- 
ticipated in.  He  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  relate 
that,  after  the  football,  Will  Adams  had  invited  them 
all  over  to  Kent's  for  the  purpose  of  "  standing  treat." 
To  Kent's  they  had  repaired,  however,  at  his  invitation, 
with  a  mighty  thirst  for  "  cobblers  "  after  their  dusty 
work.  But  unfortunately  the  Sophomores  were  there 
before  them  in  greater  force  ;  a  fight  had  ensued  for 
the  possession  of  the  premises,  and  our  friends  had 'been 
totally  routed,  and  driven  from  the  field. 

"We  are  going  around  to  Adams's  rooms,  chum," 


"  BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 


55 


Huntingdon  whispered  to  Sam,  —  "just  a  few  of  us;" 
and  so,  after  the  attempt  at  Kent's,  Sam  went  with  his 
chum,  Lewis,  Longstreet,  or  "  Charley,"  Lyman,  Smith, 
and  Tom  Hawes,  to  the  spacious  and  elegantly  furnished 
apartments  which  Adams  occupied,  and  where,  being  in 
a  private  house,  they  were  tolerably  safe  from  molesta- 
tion. 

"  I  always  mean  to  do  my  part  so  far  as  I  can,"  said 
Adams,  turning  on  the  gas ;  "  and  perhaps  I  can  furnish 
some  of  the  '  delights  of  peace,'  even  if  I'm  not  much 
of  a  fighter.  —  Wentworth,  I'm  glad  to  meet  you,"  he 
continued,  as  he  shook  hands  cordially  with  Sam,  the 
two  meeting  there  for  the  first  time.  Adams  was  the 
wealthiest  man  in  the  class,  a  slight,  delicate  fellow, 
with  light  hair,  a  kindly  blue  eye,  and  an  indolent 
manner.  As  a  matter  of  course,  he  never  lacked  for 
friends,  though  there  were  few  of  them  that  hesitated 
to  crack  a  joke  at  his  expense.  He  was  always  dressed 
with  exquisite  taste,  and  had  prudently  stood  outside 
the  Delta  during  the  foot-ball  game,  notwithstanding 
the  half-insolent  calls  of  his  classmates. 

"  We  have  reason  to  be  thanlvful  that  our  late  defeat 
was  not  a  victory,"  said  Huntingdon,  as  he  witnessed 
the  preparations  that  Adams  was  making  for  their 
entertainment ;  and  indeed  they  had.  The  choicest 
champagnes  and  sherries,  as  well  as  stronger  liquor  for 
such  as  desired,  were  furnished  in  abundance,  together 
with  cigars,  pipes,  and  tobacco  ;  and  the  company  soon 
became  hilarious. 

"You  don't  drink  yourself,  Mar}^,"  said  L^nnan,  with 
a  wink  at  Huntingdon.    By  "  Mary  "  he  meant  Adams. 

"  Let's  send  out  and  get  some  milk,"  shouted  Long- 


56 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVAED. 


street.  "Milk  is  Ms  tipple."  At  this  there  was  a 
roar. 

"  Do  have  a  cigar,"  said  Huntingdon,  passing  the  box 
to  him ;  for  their  host's  inability  to  smoke  was  a  stand- 
ing joke  among  his  friends. 

Then,  some  allusion  being  made  to  the  foct-ball  vic- 
tory, Lewis  declared  that  Wentworth  was  the  man  who 
had  done  it,  which  statement  was  received  with  uproar- 
ious applause,  and  shouts  of,  "  Wentworth,  speech  ! 
speech ! " 

Now,  Sam  was  wholly  out  of  his  element.  He  had 
never  been  present  at  any  thing  like  this  before.  He 
had  never  tasted  champagne  in  his  life,  though  on  this 
occasion  he  had  imbibed  freely,  and  the  tobacco-smoke 
was  most  disagreeable ;  but  he  got  on  to  his  feet,  and 
with  the  aid  of  the  table  managed  to  stay  there.  Of 
course  he  made  a  fool  of  himself,  though  he  furnished 
cause  for  the  most  unbounded  and  noisy  merriment  on 
the  part  of  the  others,  till  finally  Huntingdon  got  him 
into  his  chair,  and  soon  after  to  his  room.  As  I  have 
said,  there  was  no  mention  of  all  this  in  his  letters  home. 

"  They  have  a  way  here,"  he  wrote,  "  of  squirting 
water,  not  always  the  cleanest,  at  Freshmen,  out  of  big 
syringes.  Perhaps  two  or  three  of  us  are  walking 
unsuspectingly  along,  when  whist  comes  a  stream  of 
water,  thrown  from  a  window  or  some  other  vantage- 
ground  ;  and,  if  we  look  up,  we  see  half  a  dozen  Sopho- 
mores laughing  at  us  from  behind  a  shutter.  This  is 
one  of  the  many  petty  annoyances  a  Freshman  has  to 
submit  to,  though  it  led  to  a  really  funny  incident  last 
evening.    A  Junior,  Haskill  (of  course  you  remember 


"BLOODY  MOXDAY  XIGHT." 


57 


him),  rooms  nearly  opposite  :  and  we  see  a  good  deal  of 
him.  He  says  the  Junior  year  is  a  loafing  year  ;  and  I 
should  think  it  was  for  him,  for  he  is  in  our  room  smok- 
ing a  good  part  of  the  time,  and  was  there  last  evening ; 
and,  for  a  wonder,  chmn  was  there  too.  "We  were  sitting 
opposite  one  another  at  the  table  wliich  is  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  workins;  out  the  mornino-'s  Greek,  when 
somebody  knocked  at  the  door.  *  Come  in  !  '  called 
chum,  without  getting  up.  The  door  was  flung  wide 
open ;  and  instead  of  seeing  a  visitor,  as  I  glanced  up 
from  my  book,  a  stream  of  water  went  whizzing  over  the 
table,  thrown  from  one  of  those  big  syringes,  and  struck 
full  on  the  opposite  wall,  though  with  such  force  that 
not  a  drop  fell  short.  I  sprang,  and  shut  to  the  door. 
'A  compliment  for  one  of  us,'  said  chum.  'I  believe  it 
was  the  fellow  you  grappled  at  the  foot-ball  match.  If 
I  don't  have  him  under  the  pump  before  I  die,  I  sha'n"t 
rest  in  peace.'  As  the  entry  was  quiet,  there  seemed 
nothing  to  do  just  then :  so  we  went  on  with  our  work. 
Haskill  sat  a  few  minutes  giggling  to  himself,  and  then 
rose  to  go.  '  Don't  hurry,'  said  I.  '  Oh,  yes.  I  must 
be  off:  time  to  turn  in,'  he  replied.  He  opened  the 
door,  and  was  half  way  out,  when  a  second  stream  of 
water  struck  him  full  in  the  face  and  chest,  and  drenched 
him  thoroughly.  I  never  saw  a  more  ridiculous-look- 
ing fellow  than  Haskill,  or  a  madder  one.  The  joke 
was  too  good.  Lewis  rallied,  and  roared  with  laughter. 
Winthrop  with  his  pipe  from  the  next  room,  and  even 
Villiers,  came  to  see  what  was  going  on.  The  two 
Sophs,  were  pretty  well  ctit  up  about  it,  and  were 
profuse  in  their  apologies ;  for  of  coui^se  they  had  not 
dreamed  of  hazing  a  Junior.  • 


68 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"The  Sophs,  are  off  on  hazing  expeditions  most  of 
the  time  now,  though,  except  having  our  windows 
broken,  we  have  not  been  seriously  troubled  yet.  The 
proctor  for  our  entry  has  a  sweetheart  some  miles  away; 
and,  as  he  goes  to  see  her  every  evening,  the  conse- 
quence is  that  we  are  left  without  our  natural  protector. 
Every  Freshman  door  in  the  entry  and  in  the  hall  above 
has  been  broken  down  more  than  once.  They  knock 
at  a  door  :  if  admitted,  well ;  if  not,  they  form  a  wedge, 
and  down  it  goes.  How  badly  poor  Villiers  has  been 
hazed,  only  he  and  his  tormentors  know ;  but  it  is  certain 
his  furniture  has  been  entirely  demolished  twice ;  and 
they  say  they  have  made  him  crawl  through  a  row  of 
chairs,  though  I  don't  believe  that.  One  day  Wilkin- 
son, a  prominent  Sophomore  who  looks  in  to  see  me  now 
and  then,  advised  chum  to  shave  off  his  side-whiskers. 
Chum  wouldn't  do  that  for  the  world :  he  thinks  too 
much  of  them.  '  To  be  sure,  it  doesn't  matter  to  me,' 
said  Wilkinson ;  '  but  it  would  be  plc^santer  to  shave 
them  off  yourself,  than  to  have  a  parcel  of  fellows  do 
it  for  you.  They  shaved  me  last  year ;  and  there  was 
nothing  agreeable  about  it.  Oh,  it's  a  common  thing  to 
shave  a  Freshman,  or  cut  his  hair.  Our  tutor  in  mathe- 
matics last  year  —  you've  got  a  new  one,  haven't  you  ? 
—  had  a  cushion,  a  small  one,  stuffed  with  Freshman 
whiskers  he  got  in  that  way  when  he  was  in  college  ; 
and  I  should  much  rather  be  my  own  barber,  if  I  were 
in  your  place.'  I  asked  chum  afterwards  if  he  were 
going  to  shave.  He  said,  '  No,  Wilkinson  was  only 
stuffing  us ; '  but  he  sleeps  with  a  revolver  under  his 
pillow.  I  don't  tiink  he  will  be  troubled,  for  he  is  the 
most  popular  man»in  the  class." 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 


59 


Those  were  pleasant  times  for  the  young  student,  in 
spite  of  the  hard  diggnig  he  had  to  do ;  and  work  Iiard 
at  his  studies  he  did,  as  did  the  class,  almost  to  a  man, 
during  those  first  six  or  eight  weeks  :  so  that  at  reci- 
tation he  made  a  very  good  appearance  indeed.  Hunt- 
ingdon had  acquired  the  reputa^tion  of  being  the  best  in 
scholarship,  as  lie  was  foremost  in  popularity  and  fine 
personal  appearance.  He  was  the  class  leader  in  all 
movements  that  were  set  afoot,  was  personally  ac- 
quainted with  every  man  in  the  class  worth  knowing, 
and  was  on  intimate  terms  with  many  of  the  most  promi- 
nent Juniors  and  Seniors,  before  two  months  had  passed 
by.  Our  hero  could  but  feel  that  to  be  the  friend  and 
chum  of  such  a  man  was  glory  indeed.  In  truth,  he 
was  the  envy  of  many,  and  received  not  a  few  atten- 
tions and  favors  for  his  chum's  sake.  Huntingdon  him- 
self treated  him  v\^ith  a  good-natured  sort  of  considera- 
tion which  quite  won  Sam's  gratitude.  Whether  this  was 
the  result  of  a  principle  which  would  always  have  made 
him  polite  towards  one  Avith  whom  he  must  of  needs  be 
intimate,  and  who  could  besides  repay  his  attentions  by 
sounding  his  praises  far -and  near,  or  of  Huntingdon's 
recollection  of  that  splendid,  bright-eyed  girl  wdiom  he 
had  seen  and  admired  for  one  short  afternoon ;  or 
whether  he  was  really  a  little  touched  by  the  affection 
Avhich  he  plainly  saw  the  boy  entertained  for  him,  and 
really  had  some  feeling  for  the  simple-hearted  youth  for 
the  first  time  away  from  home  and  friends,  — the  result 
was  the  same  to  Sam,  who  regarded  his  chum  as  the 
very  beau-ideal  of  a  gentleman,  one  to  be  admired, 
praised,  and  imitated  so  far  as  possible.  That  tliis  was 
Sam's  opinion  of  Huntingdon,  was  plain  for  ail  to  see. 


60 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


There  are  always  some  men  in  the  class  who  become 
prominent  and  well  known  before  the  first  six  weeks 
have  passed  by.  Among  onr  friend's  classmates,  Charley 
Longstreet,  the  most  diminutive,  had  already  acquired 
this  prominence  by  his  pluck  and  daring.  One  morning 
early  in  the  term,  he  appeared  at  prayers  with  the  fir.-.t 
Freshman  silk  hat.  It  is  an  unwritten  law,  thougl 
none  the  less  firmly  and  rigorously  administered  by  the 
Sophomores,  that  Freshmen  shall  not  wear  silk  hats 
until  the  second  term.  "  They  would  be  blase ^  you 
know,  if  Vv^e  permitted  them  to  exhaust  all  the  pleasures 
of  life  at  the  outset,"  said  a  Sophomore  to  Huntingdon, 
with  a  knowing  wag  of  the  head.  On  this  particular  ' 
morning  these  gentlemen  were  in  too  much  of  a  hurry 
for  their  breakfast  to  interfere,  or,  more  likely,  they  did 
not  fully  take  in  the  significance  of  this  daring  deed : 
at  any  rate,  Longstreet  walked  away  from  the  chapel  in 
triumph,  wearing  his  tile  with  the  fullest  glory.  He 
was  closely  surrounded  by  a  body-guard  of  protectors, 
comprising  Huntingdon  of  course,  and  Sam,  and  brawny 
Fred  Lewis,  Lyman, — who  had  already  the  reputation 
of  being  the  coolest  and  most  impudent  Freshman, 
(the  "  cheekiest "  man  in  the  class,  to  use  the  college 
idiom,)  Tom  Hawes  and  Smith  his  chum,  boating  men 
both,  and  Will  Adams.  Together  they  quite  obscured 
the  new  hat;  and  probably  the  Sophomores  did  not  see 
it  at  all  that  morning.  Longstreet  even  ran  the  gauntlet; 
at  morning  and  noon  recitations;  but  fickle  fortune 
forsook  him  in  the  afternoon.  Wilkinson,  that  tall, 
dark,  plucky  boating  man,  backed  by  two  or  three  of 
his  friends,  intercepted  Longstreet  in  the  five  minuter 
when  half  the  college  was  rushing  into  recitation,  and 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 


61 


half  rushing  out :  the  bocly-guarcl  availed  not ;  the  beaver 
flew  spinning  from  the  little  man's  head,  was  hustled  by 
the  crowd  which  instantly  gath(fred,  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  no  man  saw  it  more  ;  while  for  several  days  after- 
wards the  Sophomores  wore  bits  of  black  silk  at  their 
watch-chains.  I  believe  the  first.  Freshman  beaver  inva- 
riably meets  with  a  similar  fate. 

Hazing  was  naturally  a  topic  of  especial  interest  to 
the  new-comers  in  these  days.  After  the  first  burst  of 
Sophomoric  wrath,  there  was  a  lull ;  but  the  Freshmen 
are  never  quite  free  from  annoyance  during  this  first 
term.  "  I  had  a  visit  from  two  of  them  last  night," 
said  Lewis  one  day,  as  he  settled  himself  in  Sam's  easy- 
chair,  for  a  pleasant  half-hour's  chat. 

"  How  was  that  ?  "  asked  Haskill  throuo^h  the  cloud 
of  smoke  that,  as  usual,  enveloped  him. 

"  Well,  it  was  a  httle  peculiar,  their  ^dsit,"  said  Lewis; 
and  his  loud  laugh  rang  out  at  the  recollection.  "  They 
came  in  just  as  I  was  going  to  bed,  and  mum  was  the 
word.  I  hailed  them  three  or  four  times,  but  couldn't 
get  a  word :  so  I  took  the  cue  myself.  If  they  wanted 
any  thing  they  made  signs  for  it,  and  kept  their  gravity 
too,  which  was  more  than  I  could  do,  for  some  of  their 
j)antomime  was  funny.  But  it  got  played  out  for  me 
after  two  or  three  hours :  so,  seeing  that  they  seemed 
to  have  no  notion  of  quitting,  I  turned  in  about  one 
o'<^.lock." 

"  How  long  did  they  stay  ?  "  asked  Sam. 

"  I'm  blessed  if  I  know.  They  sat  there  smoking,  as 
mum  as  ever,  the  last  I  saw  of  them :  when  I  woke  up 
this  morning,  their  places  were  unhappily  vacant." 

But  Lewis's  adventures  were  not  always  so  tame.  It 


62 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAHD. 


was  only  the  very  next  morning  that  he  appeared  at 
prayers  with  a  very  dark  ring  under  his  left  eye,  and 
the  orb  itself  in  a  considerably  damaged  condition. 

"  Why,  how's  this  ?  "  said  Tom  Hawes,  grasping  his 
friend's  arm,  during  the  rush  from  the  chapel.  "  Had 
a  row,  eh  ?  " 

"  I'll  bet  it  took  more  than  one  to  do  it,"  said  Long- 
street,  pressing  up.  Almost  immediately  Lewis  was  the 
centre  of  a  little  crowd ;  for  among  his  friends  his 
prowess  was  thought  to  be  invincible. 

"  Well,"  said  Lewis  leisurely,  "  three  of  the  dogs 
came  in  last  evening  pretty  late.  I  was  writing  out  the 
>  English  into  Greek,'  and  had  pretty  nearly  finished  it. 
I  wasn't  very  glad  to  see  them,  for  it  was  late,  and  I 
was  tired :  so  I  just  kept  at  work  without  looking  up. 
One.  of  them  sat  down  on  the  table  ;  it's  a  little  one, 
you  know,  and  he  pretty  much  covered  it :  so  I  pushed 
him  off." 

"And  I'll  bet  he  went  off,  too,"  said  Longstreet, 
gleefully. 

"  Yes,  he  went  off,"  continued  Lewis  quietly;  "and 
I  went  on  with  my  work.  Then  that  big  light- 
whiskered  fellow  "  — 

"  Jackson,  a  perfect  scrub,"  interposed  Hunting- 
don. 

"  W ell,  I  didn't  know  his  name.  He  took  hold  of 
the  table  to  pull  it  away.  I  jumped  up,  and  hold  it; 
and  it  didn't  move  very  far." 

"  I  guess  not !  "  said  Tom  Hawes,  with  a  grim  laugh. 

"  Then  we  both  pulled,  and  the  table  came  my  way ; 
and  I  don't  see  exactly  how  it  was,  but  one  of  them  hit 
me  in  the  eye  before  I  knew  what  he  was  up  to." 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  NIGHT." 


63 


"  But  yon  laid  'em  all  out,  I  know  you  did,"  said 
Longstreet,  fairly  jumping  up  and  down. 

"  Yes,  I  floored  two,  and  they  left  in  a  hurry  ;  and  it 
was  lucky  too,  for  my  mad  was  up ;  but  they  will  be 
after  me  some  of  these  cold  nights,  and  I  shall  have  to 
pa}'-  for  it." 

If  they  do,  we'll  make  a  class  matter  of  it,"  said 
Huntingdon,  with  a  grave  authority  which  he  could 
assume  so  becomingly.  "  It  is  about  time  this  sort  of 
nonsense  was  stopped.  The  honor  of  the  class  demands 
it." 

To  this  grave  proposition  there  was  a  very  general 
assent. 

"  And  I  say,  fellows,"  said  Longstreet,  whose  sud- 
denly assumed  air  of  dignity  and  importance  made 
everybody  laugh,  "  we  mustn't  wait  any  longer.  The 
only  way  is  to  have  a  secret  society  to  put  down  hazmg. 
Just  come  around  to  my  room  after  breakfast,  will  you  ? 
Lyman  and  I  have  clraw^n  up  some  articles,  and  well 
organize  regularly ;  and  the  very  first  time  that  anybody 
is  hazed,  we'll  just  take  some  thundering  Soph,  or  other, 
and  do  the  same  to  him." 

The  idea  met  with  general  favor.  The  society  was 
duly  formed,  and  joined  by  all  the  big-fisted  and  plucky 
Freshmen,  and  by  some  that  answered  neither  descrip- 
tion.   Happily  its  efforts  were  never  called  for  however. 

As  soon  as  the  novelty  of  the  situation  begins  to 
wear  off,  and  familiarity  with  the  duties  and  customs 
of  the  college  removes  to  a  degree  the  feeling  of  con- 
straint which  pervades  the  class  at  the  outset,  the 
Freslimen,  or  certain  choice  spirits  among  them,  begin 


64 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


to  indulge  in  a  little  sport  on  their  own  account ;  though 
their  jokes  are,  for  the  most  part,  simple  and  innocent 
enough. 

"  We  get  a  good  many  '  cuts,'  "  wrote  Sam  in  one  of 
his  letters,  "  in  this  way.  There  is  a  man  in  our  divis- 
ion who  dislikes  study  in  the  extreme,  and  who  cares 
even  less  about  reciting  than  he  does  about  studying. 
We  go  in  to  history  three  times  a  week  at  eight  m  the 
morning,  and  recite  in  a  room  in  the  basement  of  Uni- 
versity. The  tutor  seldom  comes  till  the  last  minute, 
and  almost  always  finds  the  keyhole  plugged.  We  all 
stand  expectant,  knowing  the  situation  of  affairs.  The 
tutor  comes  sedately  around  the  corner,  pulls  out  his 
key,  applies  it  to  the  keyhole ;  .but  it  will  not  go  in. 
'  Some  one  has  stopped  up  the  keyhole,'  he  says,  in  a 
manner  which  shows  how  very  childish  it  appears  to 
him,  while  we  all  look  as  sober  and  sympathetic  as 

possible, '  so  we  can't  recite  this  morning :  take  to  

section  next  time.'  So  we  have  an  hour  to  loaf  in.  The 
young  man  tried  this  little  game  one  morning  on  the 
Greek  tutor,  who  isn't  quite  popular.  The  keyhole  was 
securely  plugged,  and  we  all  knew  it,  and  expected  a  cut 
of  course  ;  but  the  little  man's  eyes  snapped  when  he 
took  in  the  situation  of  affairs,  and  he  marched  us  all 
into  an  adjoining  room  which  chanced  to  be  vacant,  and 
'  deaded '  three-fourths  of  the  entire  division ;  for  we 
were  not  prepared  for  such  a  flank  movement." 

Sam  himself  did  not  escape  the  unruly  spirit  which 
at  this  time  pervaded  the  class,  but  took  a  full  part  in 
the  petty  mischief  that  was  committed. 

"  What  in  the  world  have  you  there,  chum  ?  "  asked 
Huntingdon,  as  Sam  came  into  the  room  one  afternoon 


"BLOODY  MONDAY  XIGHT." 


65 


from  four  o'clock  recitation,  with  radiant  manner,  and 
threw  a  white,  chalk-covered  object  on  the  table. 

"What  does  it  look  like?"  said  the  Freshman  tri- 
umphantly. 

Like  a  blackboard  eraser.  I  should  think." 

"  Well,  so  it  is  :  we  have  become  pltniderers  of  col- 
lege property,  we  fourth  division  men.  We  wanted  to 
rough  old  Bullard  somehow  [••  old  Bullard  "  was  the 
new  ttitor  in  mathematics]  :  and  so  every  man  in  the 
third  division  carried  off  the  eraser  from  his  board,  with- 
out rubbing  otit  his  work.  BtiU  is  as  blind  as  Bartimeus 
of  old,  and  didn't  perceive  the  abstraction  till  our 
division  was  sent  to  the  board,  where  there  were  no 
erasers.  The  old  chap  was  wonderftilly  surprised,  and 
the  fellows  were  expecting  a  cut ;  but  he  rallied  his 
'  wits,  borroAved  an  eraser  fi^om  the  next  room,  cleaned 
the  board  himself,  and  went  on  with  the  recitation,  and 
then  had  each  man  rub  out  his  work  as  he  finished  his 
explanation.  When  the  hour  was  up  he  said,  '  Some 
of  the  members  of  the  class  have  made  it  necessary 
for  me  to  treat  yoti  all  with  primary-school  discipline  ; ' 
and  he  filed  us  out  one  at  a  time." 

"  Pretty  good,"  rejoined  Huntingdon  from  his  book ; 
"but  I  think  he  rather  had  the  best  of  you  that  time." 

"  Perliaps  he  did ;  but  that  is  the  eraser  he  borrowed, 
and  he'll  have  to  get  a  new  supply  for  to-morrow." 


V. 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTEY  BOY. 

As  the  first  term  drew  on,  a  cliange  came  over  the 
spmt  of  the  letters  which  Sam  wrote  home  ;  and  well 
might  this  be  so,  for  it  was  but  .a  faint  shadow  of  the 
change  which  was  fast  transforming  the  young  man 
himself  from  the  simple  rustic  country  boy,  into  the 
conventional  college  student.  It  was  in  this  case  only 
a  chapter,  however,  out  of  the  story  so  familiar  to 
every  Harvard  graduate.  A  good  hearted,  impression- 
able, impulsive  young  fellow  leaves  his  home,  and  the 
restraining  vigilance  of  friends  and  parents,  with  char- 
acter all  unformed,  and  is  at  once  dazzled  by  the  bril- 
liancy and  variety  of  his  surroundings.  Paths  hitherto 
closed  now  lie  open  to  his  feet :  why  should  he  not 
tread  them  ?  There  is  no  one  to  question  him  as  to 
his  habits  or  his  associates,  to  mark  his  going  out  or 
his  coming  in ;  and  it  is  in  this  first  flush  of  liberty 
that  the  greatest  danger  lies,  —  a-  danger  which  is  fatal 
to  so  many. 

It  must  not  be  inferred  that  our  hero  had  as  yet  mani- 
fested any  very  alarming  symptoms.  In  point  of  fact, 
he  was  still  very  far  behind  his  chum's  set,  in  almost 
all  the  characteristics  which  made  them  prominent ;  but 
the  progress  which  he  had  made  towards  proficiency 

66 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTRY  BOY. 


67 


in  their  line  of  accomplisliments  was  very  marked; 
and  the  tendency  of  his  thoughts  and  actions  was  a 
cause  for  alarm.  He  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to 
learn  to  smoke  in  good  time,  much  as  he  knew  it  would 
grieve  his  mother.  That  home-world,  dear  as  it  was, 
which  was  all  he  had  known  for  so  many  years,  looked 
very  small  to  him  now,  compared  with  the  larger  sphere 
which  surrounded  him.  The  precepts  and  principles, 
which  he  had  been  wont  to  regard  as  infallible  there, 
seemed  now,  in  the  light  of  his  new  surroundings,  to 
admit  of  a  far  different  interpretation.  "A  fellow 
can't  always  be  tied  to  his  mother's  apron-string :  a 
man  must  have  his  o^m  mind  about  these  things,  and 
use  his  own  discretion.  Women  are  no  judges  of  what 
is  right  and  proper  for  a  man ;  are  they,  chum  ?  "  he 
had  said  to  Huntingdon  more  than  once  ;  and  to  those 
sentiments  that  gentleman  had  acquiesced  very  much 
as  to  a  mathematical  axiom.  Before  that  memorable 
"  bloody  Monday  night "  when  he  had  entertained 
Adams's  choice  company  at  his  own  expense,  a  glass 
of  wine  had  never  passed  his  lips.  He  had  secretly- 
resolved  that  his  experience  on  that  occasion  should 
never  be  repeated ;  but  he  had  come  to  consider  cob- 
blers as  "  very  nice  indeed,"  and  could  not  see  how  a 
glass  or  two  of  punch  could  do  any  harm. 

"I  don't  mean  that  it  is  good  to  keep* yourself  full 
of  whiskey  all  the  time,  as  Stetson  does ;  of  course  not 
that,"  he  used  to  say  to  Villiers ;  for  the  two  young  men 
had  many  a  discussion  about  these  things.  "  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  going  beyond  all  reason  in  any  thing ; 
but,  if  you  go  around  with  the  fellows,  you  must  do 
your  share." 


68 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Then  don't  go  with  them,"  was  Villiers's  earnest 
reply,  "  if  you  cannot  avoid  their  vices." 

"  They  are  about  the  nicest  fellows  in  the  class,  vices 
or  not." 

"  There  are  others  just  as  nice,  whose  example  is  not 
dangerous." 

"  It  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk,  Villiers :  you  are 
a  monument  of  self-control,  and  it's  different  with  you ; 
but  I  like  to  go  with  the  fellows,  and  do  my  share 
when  my  turn  comes  around." 

His  turn  used  to  "  come  around  "  pretty  often,  for  he 
was  a  most  generous-hearted  fellow ;  and  before  the 
term  was  half  through  he  had  thus  trifled  away  almost 
the  entire  year's  allowance. 

In  the  matter  of  dress  he  was  a  transformed  being. 
He  had  come  with  what  was  supposed  to  be  a  very 
proper  outfit ;  but  his  sensitive  eye  soon  taught  him 
that  there  was  a  defect  somewhere,  and,  acting  under 
his  chum's  suggestions,  he  had  patronized  a  fasliionable 
tailor  without  delay.  The  taste  was  as  new  as  its 
indulgence  was  delightful ;  and  with  the  aid  of  the 
skilful  salesman,  who  saw  the  young  man's  weak  point, 
he  selected  one  suit  after  another,  till,  as  he  afterwards 
said,  "  I  never  knew  what  possessed  me  ;  but  I  bought 
clothing  enough  that  first  term  to  have  lasted  the  entire 
four  years."  •  When  he  came  to  include  in  his  expendi- 
tures what  he  had  paid  for  gloves,  flashy  scarfs,  and 
French  boots,  the  sum-total  was  alarming,  if  not  in 
itself,  at  least  when  he  remembered  his  resolutions  to 
practise  economy. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  exact  change  that  had 
come  over  his  manner.    Impressionable  as  he  was,  he 


A  CHANGE  IX  THE  COUNTRY  BOY. 


69 


had  caught  something,  of  the  polite  indifference  of  his 
chum,  of  the  cool  impudence  of  Lyman,  of  the  brag- 
gadocio of  Longstreet ;  and  there  was  at  this  time  an 
airy  conceit  in  his  manner,  as  though  the  college  and 
all  its  appurtenances  had  been  made  for  his  especial 
benefit,  that  was  a  little  ridicidous ;  for,  after  all, 
nobody  was  imposed  upon  by  his  pretentious  ways, 
and  nobody  at  this  time  considered  him  a  swell.  It 
took  longer  than  this  to  make  a  man  of  the  world  of 
him;  and  few  of  his  new  associates  forgot  his' original 
rusticity,  least  of  all  the  young  men  whom  he  was 
imitating.  Their  ways  and  modes  of  dress  and  deport- 
ment, their  debonair  good-fellowship,  their  easy  spend- 
ing of  money,  and  theh^  peculiar  grace  so  captivating 
to  Sam's  refined  and  nice  appreciation,  were  with  them 
the  accident  of  nature,  or  the  growth  of  habit.  A 
novice  could  not  acquire  them  in  a  day.  Sam  was 
Huntingdon's  chum,  and  Huntingdon  was  at  this  time 
the  most  prominent  and  popular  man  in  his  class  :  so 
he  was  everywhere  received  out  of  compliment  to  the 
hero  of  the  hour,  when  on  his  own  account  this  could 
not  have  been  so. 

"What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  that  Wentworth?  he  seems 
to  be  with  your  set  a  good  deal,"  asked  a  friendly 
Junior  of  Lyman  one  day. 

"  Oh,"  retiu'ued  the  latter  with  his  cool  laugh, 
"  Wentworth  is  a  very  good  sort  of  fellow  at  bottom, 
I  guess ;  only  he  hasn't  quite  got  the  clover-seed  raked 
out  of  his  hair  yet.  Huntingdon  has  taken  him  up : 
that's  the  reason  you  see  him  around  with  us  so 
much." 

There  were  several  reasons  why  our  young  friend  did 


70  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

not  carry  his  follies  (for  vices  he  had  none)  to  an 
extreme.  His  experience  at  examination  had  taught 
him  a  bitter  lesson ;  and  he  was  fully  resolved  to  avoid 
any  thing  that  should  send  him  home  in  disgrace.  Mis- 
takes he  would  certainly  make ;  but  they  would  be 
errors  of  judgment,  not  of  the  heart.  Then  the  Fresh- 
men tutors  kept  him  very  busy  indeed ;  the  three  reci 
tations  a  day  came  around  with  the  utmost  regularity ; 
and  it  sometimes  seemed  as  though  the  task-masters 
vied  with  each  other  to  see  which  one  should  work  the 
class  the  hardest.  "  They  display  a  zeal  worthy  of  a 
better  cause,"  Huntingdon  used  to  say  with  a  half 
curse,  as  he  came  in  late  at  night  from  some  gay  com- 
pany, and,  turning  on  the  gas,  sat  down  to  a  two  or 
three  hours'  dig.  Complaints  of  this  grew  more  and 
more  frequent  as  the  term  advanced ;  but  unquestiona- 
bly a  great  deal  of  mischief  was  thus  prevented.  Best 
of  all,  however,  Sam  was  coming  more  and  more  under 
the  influence  of  Villiers. 

There  was  nothing,  indeed,  that  the  young  man 
really  enjoyed  more  at  this  time  than  the  society  and 
friendship  of  Villiers.  He  always  felt  a  little  con- 
strained in  his  chum's  company,  and  was  frequently  ill 
at  ease  among  his  friends.  He  could  not  talk  as  they 
did,  and  he  knew  it,  and  he  knew  that  sometimes 
they  made  game  of  him ;  but  there  was  nothing  of  all 
this  to  mar  his  friendship  with  Villiers,  who  always 
received  him  with  honest  cordiality,  and  for  whom  he 
entertained  every  day  a  deeper  regard.  So  these  two 
young  men,  so  different  in  many  characteristics  and 
yet  each  possessing  a  singleness  of  heart,  were  much 
together.    They  went  off  on  long  tramps  in  the  deli- 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTRY  BOY.  71 


cious  autumn  afternoons,  and  explored  tlie  country  for 
miles  around.  They  read  out  their  Latin  and  Greek 
together,  for  Huntington  almost  never  studied  until 
after  midnight;  and  Sam  owed  much  of  the  excel- 
lent show  he  made  at  recitations  and  examinations  to 
the  thorough  preparation  he  had  made  by  going  over 
the  work  with  Villiers;  for  the  latter  prepared  his 
lessons  in  the  most  thorough  manner.  Everybody  said 
Villiers  was  a  most  unmitigated  "dig,"  and  so  he  was; 
but  he  seemed  to  think  that  hard  study  was  the  object 
for  which  young  men  went  to  college,  and  never  minded 
being  called  a  dig.  Those  much-esteemed  Freshman 
performances,  so  generally  admired  by  the  class  at  large, 
such  as  stealing  signs,  plugging  up  keyholes,  carrying 
off  college  property,  and  promoting  class  fights,  received 
no  approbation  from  him.  A  member  of  the  Faculty 
itself  could  not  have  been  more  grave  than  Villiers  was 
at  each  fresh  recital  of  these  reprehensible  perform- 
ances. Such  a  man  could  not  possibly  be  popular ;  and 
Sam  used  sometimes  to  feel  a  little  ashamed  when,  in 
company  with  his  studious  friend,  he  encountered  his 
high-blooded  acquaintances.  But  in  his  own  soul  he 
knew  that  his  friend  was  right,  and  did  battle  for  him 
with  manly  warmth,  whenever  occasion  offered,  declaring 
that  he  was  a  splendid  fellow,  and  every  inch  a  gentle- 
man, if  there  was  one  in  the  class. 

"  I  believe  he  would  lead  the  class,  too,"  he  said  to 
Lewis,  as  the  two  were  enjoying  a  half-hour  lounging 
in  the  glow  of  the  latter's  open  fire,  talking  over  class 
matters,  "if  he  were  not  so  tremendously  conscientious 
as  to  never  look  into  a  pony." 

"  Not  use  any  ponies  I     Why  the   man  must  be 


72 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


insane ;  it  don't  seem  possible  to  grind  all  the  grist  we 
have  without,"  was  Lewis's  exclamation. 

"  Well,  Villiers  reads  without  a  translation  almost  as 
fast  as  I  can  with  one,  although  he  isn't  always  sure  of 
the  sense  of  a  passage,  and  occasionally  finds  one  that 
is  altogether  too  much  for  him." 

"  I  wouldn't  believe  a  man  could  be  so  foolish." 

"  Oh,  he's  more  decided  about  that  than  any  one 
thing  !  I  had  to  laugh  at  him  the  other  day :  he  carried 
the  joke  to  the  extreme,"  and  Sam  laughed  heartily 
at  the  recollection. 

"How  was  that?" 

"  I  was  in  his  room  reading  out  the  Thucydides  with 
him.  You  know  how  tough  it  has  been  lately.  We 
have  read  it  all  out  together,  and  for  that  reason  I  have 
ponied  very  little.  There  was  one  passage  we  couldn't 
make  au}^  thing  of ;  so  we  skipped  it,  read  out  the  rest 
of  the  lesson,  and  came  back  to  it  for  another  twenty 
minutes ;  but  it  was  no  use.  Yilliers  was  fairly  stuck, 
and  I  half  enjoyed  the  situation.  There  was  but  a 
short  time  to  spare ;  and  as  it  was  m}^  day  to  be  called 
up,  and  I  didn't  relish  the  idea  of  deading,  I  hurried  to 
my  room,  took  a  little  ride  on  the  pony,  comprehended 
without  trouble,  and  brought  the  pony  back  to  read  the 
passage  to  Villiers.  '  Oh,  please  don't  read  that  to  me, 
Sam :  I  never  use  those  translations  ! '  he  exclaimed,  in 
a  half-horrified  way  that  made  me  laugh  in  spite  of  all 
I  could  do.  '  All  right,'  said  I ;  and  I  threw  the  book 
down.  '  Suppose  we  go  over  it  once  more,'  and  I 
commenced  reading.  When  I  came  to  the  passage  in 
question,  'Skip  that,  Sam,'  he  said:  'you  didn't  get  it 
fairly.'    And  we  went  in;  and  he  was  nearer  a  dead 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTEY  BOY. 


73 


than  I  ever  knew  him  to  be  before.  That  is  what  I  call 
carrjing  the  joke  pretty  far ;  don't  you?  " 

"I  should  think  it  was,  and  mighty  foolish  too.  The 
tutors  take  it  for  granted  that  every  man  uses  a  pony, 
and  give  out  the  lessons  accordingly ;  and  what  is  the 
use  of  making  a  martjT?  of  3'ourself  ?  " 

Not  unfrequently  Sam  used  to  shock  his  friend's 
sense  of  projDriety  by  proposing,  in  a  spirit  of  mischief- 
loving  fun,  some  project  that  he  knew  would  meet 
with  his  disapproval ;  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  call 
forth  the  look  of  grave  disapproval,  or  the  earnest 
expostulations  sure  to  follow. 

"  Come  in,  and  have  a  cobbler  or  a  glass  of  ale,"  he 
would  say,  as  they  were  passing  Kent's.  "  I  am  as  dry 
as  a  fish." 

"  Xo,  I  never  drink  cobblers  or  ale,"  Villiers  would 
invariably  reply  in  a  grave  tone. 

"  Well,  no  matter  if  you  don't ;  come  in  with  a  fel- 
low." 

"  No.  If  you  please,  I  vdll  wait  for  you  outside." 
He  was  never  induced  to  enter  an  ale-shop,  or  drink  a 
glass,  even  when  in  after-days  he  consorted  much  with 
the  boating-men  of  the  college. 

"  Oh,  Villiers !  "  said  Sam  gayly  to  him  on  one  oc- 
casion, as  they  were  sauntering  across  the  square,  "  I 
know  you  are  a  lover  of  the  assthetic  and  the  beautiful, 
and  I  want  to  show  you  the  prettiest  girl  you  ever  saw 
in  your  life  ;  that  is,  if  she's  at  her  usual  post  of  obser- 
vation ; "  and,  taking  his  friend's  arm,  he  walked  him 
slowly  past  a  certain  window  where  millinery  goods 
were  wont  to  be  displayed,  and  within  which  a  very 
pretty  girl  indeed  was  to  be  seen  sitting  at  her  sewing. 


74 


STUDEKT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  There,  old  fellow !  did  you  ever  see  any  thing  prettiei 
than  that?" 

Villiers  said  nothing,  but  turned  upon  him  one  of  his 
grave  and  reproachful  looks,  that  caused  Sam  to 
explode  with  laughter. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  struck  with  a  sudden  idea,  and 
pleased  with  the  thought  of  being  able  to  shock  Vil- 
liers, "  I  need  some  cravats  badly ;  and  how  I  should 
enjoy  wearing  them  if  made  by  such  pretty  and  deli- 
cate fingers  !  "  And  the  two  young  men  entered  the 
shop,  Villiers  with  considerable  hesitation,  for  he  knew 
well  that  Sam  was  in  no  need  of  cravats.  To  the  open 
disappointment  of  one,  and  the  secret  amusement  of  the 
other,  they  were  waited  on,  not  by  the  blushing  little 
fairy  (she  seemed  an  innocent,  blue-eyed  little  thing, 
hardly  out  of  childhood,  and  was  even  more  interesting, 
Sam  thought,  in  her  black  dress,  seen  from  across  the 
counter),  but  by  an  ill-favored  spinster  of  forty-five, 
who  emerged  rather  unexpectedly  from  behind  a  cur- 
tain, and  aske-d,  in  a  sharp  voice,  what  they  wanted. 
There  was  no  help  for  it  now,  however ;  and  after  some 
deliberation  Sam  ordered  his  neckties,  and  the  pair 
departed. 

Sam  laughed  long  and  heartily  at  his  own  discomfit- 
ore.  "  Did  you  ever  see  any  thing  so  exceeding  lean 
and  ill-favored  ?  If  Pharaoh's  kine  were  half  as  bad,  I 
don't  wonder  that  seven  were  enough  to  breed  a 
famine." 

It  was  several  days  after  this,  that  they  happened  to 
be  passing,  when  Sam  said,  "  Come,  Villiers,  those  neck- 
ties must  be  finished :  we'll  go  and  get  them.  I  wonder 
if  the  she-dragon  is  on  duty  this  time. 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUXTBY  BOY. 


She  proved  not  to  be.  Yes,  the  ties  are  finished," 
said  the  girl  Trith  a  conscious  blnsh,  and  proceeded  to 
wrap  them  in  a  paper  ;  but  when  Sam  drew  forth  his 
pocket-book  with  an  inquiring  glance,  '-I  —  I — really 
don't  know  how  much  aunty  is  going  to  ask  for  them," 
she  stammered,  with  the  prettiest  confusion. 

"  If  Tou  will  ask  her,  I  will  look  in  again,"'  said  Sam 
with  a  half-roguish  look.  Xo,''  he  exclaimed,  as  she 
extended  the  parcel  to  him.  I  won't  take  them  till 
I  pay  for  them  ;  "  and  he  was  evidently  well  pleased  at 
the  prospect  of  another  call.  Indeed,  notwithstanding 
Mr.  Villiers's  grave  looks,  there  seemed  to  be  no  alter- 
native. Sam  was  such  a  frank,  good-looking  fellow,  in 
spite  of  the  airs  he  had  assumed,  with  his  fine  figure, 
curling  chestnut  hair,  cheery  face,  and  honest  warm- 
hearted manner,  that  the  little  milliner  was  not  the  first 
who  had  smiled  upon  him  at  Cambridge  :  but  for  some 
reason  Villiers  seemed  to  be  impressed  with  the  duty 
of  seeing  to  it  that  he  did  not  order  too  many  cravats. 

Indeed,  since  the  promise  which  he  had  made  to  the 
bright-eyed  girl  on  the  river's  bank,  on  a  certain  golden 
summer  afternoon,  he  considered  it  quite  as  much  one 
of  the  duties  of  his  college  life  to  deepen  and  strength- 
en his  influence  over  Sam,  perceiving  as  he  did  the 
peculiar  dangers  that  surrounded  the  generous-hearted, 
impressionable,  impulsive  boy,  as  to  dig  out  his  Greek 
or  mathematics  ;  and  such  was  his  thorough-going  man- 
ner, determination  of  purpose,  and  strength  of  will, 
that  he  was  likely  to  succeed  in  any  undertaking. 
Other  young  men  might  drink  and  smoke,  and  play 
cards  and  billiards,  and  idle  away  their  time  ;  might 
steal  signs,  plug  up  keyholes,  destroy  college  propertj^^ 


76 


STUDENT-LITE  AT  HARVARD. 


cut  prayers,  recitations,  and  church  services,  instigate 
class  fights,  and  flirt  witli  pretty  milliners.  That  these 
purposes  did  not  constitute  the  object  for  which  he  had 
come  to  college,  he  knew,  and  he  honestly  believed  that 
that  ought  not  to  be  the  case  with  any  honest  young 
fellow :  at  any  rate,  he  was  determined  that  his  friend 
should  not  fall  into  these  ways  if  he  could  prevent  it. 
Thus  it  was  that  he  was  always  glad  to  see  him  at  his 
room ;  was  always  ready  to  lay  aside  his  book,  and  chat, 
no  matter  how  time  pressed  ;  never  refused  to  go  over  a 
lesson  with  him,  though  he  might  be  perfectly  well  pre- 
pared ;  and  was  ever  ready  to  start  off  on  a  tramp. 

He  exercised  a  tact  and  discretion  too,  worthy  of  an 
older  head,  in  not  thrusting  in  his  friend's  face  his  dis- 
approval of  the  dangerous  ideas  and  habits  Sam  was  com- 
ing to  adopt.  His  disapprobation,  however  deep,  seldom 
found  utterance,  unless  Sam  broached  the  subject,  as  he 
often  did,  simply  to  hear  Yilliers  talk.  A  serious,  a  re- 
proachful, or  a  grieved  look,  was  his  only  retort ;  and 
Sam  was  often  honestly  ashamed  of  himself  when  he 
saw  how  patient  and  enduring  the  noble  fellow  was.  It 
was  as  natural  for  our  hero  to  look  to  some  one  for 
confidence,  sympathy,  and  advice,  as  it  was  for  him  to 
breathe ;  in  this  particular,  he  was  a  very  child ;  self- 
reliance  was  something  he  had  yet  to  learn:  he  was 
homesick  enough,  too,  at  times,  with  a  mighty  yearning 
for  home  and  friends.  Huntingdon,  we  may  be  sure, 
was  not  the  man  to  bestow  much  comfort  on  a  home- 
sick boy ;  and  after  a  mute  and  unaccepted  proffer  of 
his  tenderest  friendship  to  his  chum,  he  felt  himself 
drawn  very  near  indeed  to  Villiers. 

Thus  the  term  drew  on,  and  "  Thanksgiving  recess  " 


A  CHANGE  IN  THE  COUNTRY  BOY. 


77 


was  at  hand.  Sam  looked  forward  to  a  happy  week  at 
home,  where  he  hoped  to  persuade  his  chum  and  Villiers 
to  accompany  him,  when  an  act  of  thoughtless  folly 
came  near  cutting  short  his  college  course  at  the  outset; 
and,  almost  at  the  same  time,  the  part  which  he  took  in 
a  practical  joke  well-nigh  broke  his  friendship  with 
Villiers. 

Longstreet  and  Sam  were  going  to  town  together,  to 
the  theatre.  In  high,  spirits,  they  crossed  the  square 
and  found  a  car,  half  full  of  passengers,  the  patient 
horses  waiting  for  the  well-known  luhang  of  the  bell. 
It  was  already  quite  dark,  and  neither  conductor  nor 
driver  was  anywhere  to  be  seen.  The  two  Freshmen 
stood  on  the  curbstone  contemplating  the  car.  There 
was  nothing  unusual  in  one's  being  left  thus ;  but  it 
was  not  every  day  that  so  quick-witted  and  daring  a 
Freshman  as  our  friend  Longstreet  was  at  hand.  This 
latter  individual  looked  around  warily  for  a  moment, 
and  then  whispered,  — 

"  Went  worth,  do  you  knov/  how  to  drive  ?  " 

"  I  hope  I  do  !  "  Sam  replied  indignantly. 

"  Well,  suppose  you  try  now.  Don't  make  such  a 
thundering  noise.  Jump  on,  and  drive  that  car  to  Bos- 
ton, and  I'll  collect  the  fares  :  when  we  get  to  the  other 
end,  we'll  leave  the  old  ark  to  get  back  if  it  can.  Eh? 
quick  about  it,  now." 

Sam  had  not  yet  learned  to  say  no.  He  hesitated. 
"  Come,  Wentworth,  it  will  be  too  late  in  a  minute ;  and 
it  will  be  just  the  jolliest  lark."  A  little  reluctantly, 
Sam  took  his  place  on  the  platform,  and  loosened  the 
brake  ;  the  horses  pricked  up  their  ears,  the  bell  rang, 
the  car  started,  and  they  were  off  on  their  novel  ride. 


78 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEYAED. 


Longstreet  acted  his  part  cliaracteristically.  He  tied  his 
handkerchief  around  his  neck,  pulled  up  his  coat-collar, 
gave  his  hat  a  twist  downward  over  his  eyes,  and,  keep- 
ing a  sharp  lookout,  filled  the  car  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  'Port.  Then  rattling  along  at  a  good  pace 
to  the  bridge,  he  went  through,  and  took  up  the  fares 
with  the  utmost  nonchalance.  Sam,  on  the  front  plat- 
form, had  rather  the  hardest  of  it.  The  horses  were  so 
well  trained,  that  he  had  only  to  loosen  and  tighten  the 
brake ;  but  the  night  was  dark  and  chilly ;  there  was 
little  fun,  and  ample  time  for  reflection.  The  way  had 
never  seemed  so  long  before.  They  were  making  good 
time  over  the  bridge,  when  the  door  behind  him  opened, 
and  Longstreet,  having  taken  up  the  fares,  came  out  on 
the  platform,  exclaiming  in  a  confidential  tone,  — 

"  One  dollar  and  eighty  cents,  and  some  tickets, 
Wentworth ;  a  big  haul,  isn't  it  ?  But  I,  for  one,  am 
done  for,  —  spotted,  by  thunder !  and  I  guess  we  both 
are,  for  that  matter.  Old  Bullard  is  aboard  ;  got  on  at 
Quincy  Street,  and  looked  surprised  enough  at  seeing 
me. 

"  Do  you  think  he  knew  you?  " 

"  Knew  me!  I  guess  he  did.  He  said,  '  Good  even- 
ing, Mr.  Longstreet,'  "  the  pseudo  conductor  replied, 
imitating  the  smooth-spoken  manner  of  the  tutor. 
"  There's  just  a  squeak  for  you,  though  a  mighty  small 
one.  Do  you  make  for  Parker's  as  soon  as  we  get  to 
the  Revere,  and  maybe  he  won't  see  you.  But  Fm 
done  for;  he  caught  me  making  off  with  one  of  his 
blackboard-rubbers,  you  know,  and  suspects  I  plugged 
his  keyhole,  though  I  didn't." 

So  the  two  students  squandered  the  dollar  and  eighty 


A  CHANGE  m  TELE  GOUKTKY  BOY. 


79 


cents,  and  tried  bard  to  tliink  they  were  having  a  good 
time,  though  Sam  was  far  from  feeling  comfortable,  as 
ke  thought  of  the  consequences  of  his  exploit.  The 
officers  of  the  railroad  company  were  heartily  disposed 
to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice,  made  application  to 
the  Faculty,  which  honorable  body  held  a  special  ses- 
sion, and  placed  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  police  ; 
but  Mr.  BuUard  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  the  affair 
finally  blew  over.  Of  course,  all  the  class,  and  the 
college  too,  knew  about  it  before  long ;  and  the  two 
young  men  were  heroes  for  a  time.  "It  is  the  best 
thing  that  has  been  done  yet,  chum,"  said  Huntingdon, 
approvingly.  "  I  wouldn't  have  believed  you  had  it  in 
you ;  "  and  he  really  began  to  have  some  respect  for 
Sam.  Everybody  else  said,  it  was  a  great  thing,  too, 
except  Yilliers,  who  looked  unusually  grave  ;  though 
the  freshness  of  this  sensation  had  hardly  passed  away, 
before  Villiers  had  occasion  to  look  graver  than  ever. 


VI. 


AN  ESCAPADE. 

There  remained  but  a  week  more  of  college  routine, 
before  the  Thanksgiving  recess;  and  this  particular 
evening  found  Sam  hard  at  work  reviewing  the  geome- 
try for  the  examination  which  was  the  first  exercise  the 
next  morning.  When  thus  engaged,  he  heard  a  knock 
at  the  door,  and  called  out,  "  Come  in !  "  without  look 
ing  up  from  his  work.  Almost  immediately  he  wa'S 
conscious  that  something  extraordinary  was  on  the  car- 
pet ;  and  a  glance  showed  him  three  grotesque-looking 
objects  filing  into  his  room. 

"  I'm  in  for  a  hazing  now,"  flashed  through  his  mind. 
"  Huntingdon  is  away  for  the  evening,  and  there  are 
three  of  them." 

The  Sophomores  appeared  to  be  most  effectually  dis- 
guised. Old  hats  were  pulled  down  over  their  eyes ; 
their  faces  were  as  black  as  burnt  cork  could  make 
them ;  each  one  wore  a  handkerchief  tied  around  the 
throat,  while  their  coats  were  apparently  turned  inside 
out.  Sam  had  heard  of  Sophomore  masquerades  at  the 
expense  of  different  men  of  the  class ;  and  the  stories 
now  promised  to  be  most  unpleasantly  realized. 

The  visitors  walked  in  quietly  enough,  and  seated 
themselves  in  a  row,  leaving  the  door  wide  open.  The 

80 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


81 


gas  flared,  and  the  cold  damp  air  bleAV  in,  for  the  Sophs, 
had,  as  usual,  chosen  a  rainy  night  for  their  escapade. 
Sam  rose  quietly,  and  shut  the  door.  He  half  deter- 
mined on  a  sortie  to  get  re-enforcements,  but  concluded 
to  face  his  enemy  alone,  and,  resuming  his  seat,  asked 
yery  politely  what  he  could  do  for  their  entertainment. 
This  and  yarious  other  remarks  which  he  made  only 
elicited  a  grunt  or  two  from  the  strange-looking  yisitors  ; 
and  by  degrees  it  dawned  upon  him  that  they  were  no 
more  Sophomores  than  he  was :  they  were  far  too  lamb- 
like and  modest,  and  he  felt  certain  that  the  smallest 
could  be  no  other  than  Longstreet ;  so  for  a  moment  he 
enjo3*ed  the  silence  and  the  awkward  constraint  of  liis 
guests. 

"  Well,  fellows,"  he  exclaimed  when  he  could  no 
longer  keep  his  grayity,  "  the  make-up  is  good,  but  the 
action  is  altogether  too  tame.  You  ought  to  stir  around 
more,  lock  the  door,  grab  the  poker,  upset  the  table, 
put  out  the  gas,  break  down  a  bedstead  or  two,  and 
intimidate  a  fellow.  And,  Longstreet,  anybody  that  had 
eyer  seen  those  trousers  once  would  neyer  forget  that 
you  and  no  one  else  must  be  inside  them." 

At  this  the  four  laughed  heartily,  and  Longstreet, 
jumping  up,  and  pulling  off  his  big  hat,  said,  I  told 
you,  fellows,  it  wouldn't  go  down  with  Wentwortli.  I 
knew  he'd  know  me  fast  enough.  But  hayen't  we  had 
good  fun  though  I  "  and  the  little  fellow's  eyes  rolled 
most  comically. 

There  is  another  knock  at  the  door,  and  in  comes 
Lewis,  with  a  graye  face,  and  book  in  hand.  Of  course 
he  had  come  to  see  how  Sam  stood  being  hazed;  and  his 
well-feigned  grayity  gaye  place  to  an  immense  laugh, 
as  he  perceiyed  that  the  trick  had  been  discoyered. 


82 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAHVAED. 


"  Who  in  the  world  are  you  two  ?  " 

"Don't  you  know  me,  Wentworth?"  a  smooth, 
almost  girlish  voice  inquired. 

"  Oh,  yes,  —  Adams,  of  course ;  but  I  never  should 
have  guessed  if  you  hadn't  spoken.  —  And  you,"  g(  ing 
up  quite  close  to  the  third,  "  must  be  Tom  Hawes." 

"  Nobody  else,"  said  Tom,  who  forthwith  produced  a 
pipe,  and  began  his  customary  occupation.  Again  theie 
was  a  laugh  at  the  odd  appearance  of  the  three  Freshmen. 

Now  Smith  came  in,  most  accidentally  and  innocently, 
of  course  ;  and  then  Winthrop  from  the  adjoining  room, 
with  his  inevitable  pipe  and  his  peculiar  giggle.  Has- 
kill,  hearing  a  noise,  dropped  in  from  across  the  way ; 
and  all  were  very  jolly,  and  smoked  so  fast  that  pres- 
ently one  could  hardly  see  across  the  room,  so  that  Sam 
was  glad  to  open  the  door  again,  and  Adams  took  refuge 
at  the  window. 

"  Too  much  for  you,  Mary  ? "  said  Tom,  with  a 
chuckle. 

"  Well,  it  is  a  little  strong,"  said  Adams,  gasping ;  and 
there  was  a  fresh  laugh  at  his  expense. 

"  I  guess  Sam  was  the  only  one  who  suspected  you 
right  off ;  wasn't  he  ?  "  asked  Lewis. 

"  Yes,"  called  a  voice  from  the  window.  "  We  hazed 
the  rest  of  them  fast  enough." 

"  We  killed  the  bear  ;  didn't  we,  Mary  ?  "  said  Long- 
street  ;  and  there  was  more  mirth. 

"  Then  you've  been  somewhere  else?"  inquired  Sam 
innocently,  at  which  the  room  rang  again. 

"  Guess  they  have,"  chuckled  Winthroj)  from  his 
pipe,  which  consisted  principally  of  an  immense  pickle- 
jar,  that  it  took  both  hands  to  lift,  filled  with  some  kind 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


83 


of  prepared  water,  tlirongli  wliich  tlie  smoke  was  drawn. 
"  They've  been  the  rounds,  and  sold  pretty  much 
everybody." 

"  Yes,"  put  in  Longstreet,  gleefully :  "  you  just  ought 
to  have  seen  Winthrop  turn  pale,  and  tremble.  He 
thought  his  time  had  come  :  he  actually  let  his  pipe  go 
out ; "  and  the  laugh  was  turned  on  AVinthrop,  for  his 
cowardice  was  well  understood  by  all. 

"  But  Lewis  was  sold  the  best,"  continued  Long- 
street.  "  He  stood  our  nonsense  for  just  about  five 
minutes,  then  made  a  charge  at  us,  and  would  have 
ruined  us  in  two  minutes,  if  I  hadn't  called  out  who  we 
were,  just  as  he  was  throttling  poor  ]\Iary  there  ;  that 
made  us  a  little  more  careful  about  our  actions  here." 

"  I  was  mad  some,  that's  a  fact,"  said  Lewis,  by  way 
of  apology,  turning  very  red  at  the  thought  of  the  hoax. 
"  I  thought  hazing  was  about  played  out  for  this  year ; 
and  I  believe  you  did  come  near  getting  hiu^t." 

"  Well,  now,  is  there  anywhere  else  we  can  go  ? " 
said  Hawes,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and 
putting  it  carefully  into  its  case;  '-because  if  there's 
no  more  fun  to-night,  I'm  going  home  to  clean  up." 

"  Have  you  been  up  to  see  Yilliers  ? "  suggested 
Haskill,  after  a  pause. 

"  Yilliers  !  "  "  Yilliers  !  "  "  Just  the  idea  I  "  "  Just 
the  thing  ! "  "Go  and  try  it  on  Yilliers  !  "  came  from 
all  sides ;  and  Lewis  in  his  delight  gave  Haskill  a  pat 
between  the  .shoulders,  which  came  near  felling  hun, 
adding  the  affirmation  that  he  was  a  brick,  wliile  there 
was  L  general  expression  of  wonder  that  Yilliers  should 
have  been  forgotten. 

"  WeU,  he's  been  hazed,  so  that  I  thought  you 


84 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


wouldn't  have  much  trouble  there,"  said  Haskill, 
coolly,  at  the  same  time  awakening  the  envy  of  half 
the  smokers  present  by  the  perfect  ring  of  smoke  which 
he  sent  gracefully  sailing  across  the  table. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Longstreet,  excitedly,  "  let's  man- 
age this  better.  Oh,  he'll  be  as  mad  as  the  deuce ;  but 
we  can't  help  that :  we'll  "  — and  he  suddenly  lost  him- 
self in  meditation.  Very  funny  the  little  fellow  looked, 
with  his  eager  eyes,  black  face,  and  short  light  hair  stand- 
ing out  in  every  direction  from  his  head,  as  he  gazed 
abstractedly  at  the  ceiling. 

"Now,  see  here,"  said  Lewis  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 
There  was  general  silence  and  attention.  "  It  won't  do 
for  you  three  fellows  to  go  up,  and  then  all  the  rest  of 
us  to  come  trooping  after.  Any  fool  would  know  that 
it  wasn't  all  straight  for  a  dozen  fellows  to  come  grin- 
ning into  his  room  at  this  time  of  night ;  and  of  course 
we  want  to  be  there,  and  see  the  fun." 

"  Of  course  we  do  !  "  they  all  exclaimed. 

"Well,  I  know  just  how  to  manage  it.  It's  mighty 
rough  on  him,  I  know ;  but  "  — 

"  IS'ot  a  bit  rougher  than  it  was  on  me,"  said  Win- 
throp. 

"  Somebody  must  go  up  to  his  room  first.  You,  Sam, 
go  up  and  ask  about  some  demonstration  you  pretend 
you  don't  understand.  If  he  is  there,  and  the  coast  is 
all  clear,  stay  where  you  are;  and  in  three  or  four 
minutes  we'll  send  these  boys  up,  and  they  can  begin  to 
haze  him." 

"  Then  the  rest  of  us  can  follow.  Lewis,  you  are  a 
strategist !  "  said  Smith. 

"  No,  the  rest  of  us  won't  follow  yet :  wait  till  I  gel 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


85 


through.  I've  got  it  all  chalked  out  just  right.  I'll 
go  up  myself,  and  be  mightily  surprised  at  what  I  see. 
I'll  tell  him  that  the  Sophs,  are  having  a  punch  in  the 
room  next  to  me,  and  are  getting  ready  for  the  grand 
hazing  scrape  of  the  year.  I'll  propose  that  I  go  and 
rally  all  the  fellows  I  can  find,  and  that  v/e  make  a 
stand,  and  put  a  stop  to  such  work ;  and  then  I'll  come 
for  you.    There,  how's  that  ?  " 

"  Capital,  Lewis  !  "  "  Stunning  !  "  "  Couldn't  be 
better  !  "  one  after  another  exclaimed. 

"  Don't  make  such  a  thundering  noise,"  said  Lewis, 
relapsing  into  his  hoarse  whisper.  "  He'll  be  down 
here  to  see  what's  going  on."  Immediately  all  began 
to  move  about  on  tiptoe.  "  If  you  fellows  don't  spoil 
every  thing  by  being  green,  we'll  have  some  fun.  Here, 
Tom,  pull  that  handkerchief  up  so  as  to  cover  your 
ears  ;  get  a  pair  of  trowsers  for  Charley  to  put  on  over 
these  striped  things.  There,  that  is  better.  Now,  Sam, 
you  be  off,  for  it  is  getting  late,  and,  if  every  thing  is 
right,  stay  till  the  boys  come,  and  then  act  exactly  as 
though  you  were  being  hazed.  —  And  you  fellows,"  as 
Sam  withdrew,  "  act  as  though  you  were  regular  Sophs., 
and  weren't  afraid  of  any  thing.  Freeze  to  the  shovel 
and  poker,  and  the  Indian  club,  if  there  is  one  ;  upset 
some  of  the  chairs  and  a  table,  and  mount  guard  at 
the  door :  you  ought  to  know  how  the  thing  is  done," 
at  which  ingenuous  remark  there  was  a  laugh  from 
Haskill. 

Book  in  hand,  Sam  left  the  jubilant  Freshmen  behind 
him  and  mounted  the  stairs  to  his  friend's  room.  Yil- 
liers  had  just  finished  his  final  preparations  for  the 
examination  in  the  morning,  and  welcomed  Sam  with  his 


86 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVABD. 


warm,  honest  cordiality,  and  was  only  too  happy  to  sit 
down  with  him,  and  go  over  the  troublesome  proposi- 
tion. Our  hero  did  not  in  the  least  realize  how  mortify- 
ing a  joke  he  was  taking  a  part  in  at  his  friend's  ex- 
pense. He  had  not  looked  on  that  side  of  the  matter. 
He  was  a  most  thoughtless  young  fellow  in  those  days ; 
and  that  is  the  only  excuse  there  is  for  him. 

The  well-matured  plan  of  Lewis  was  successfully 
carried  out.  In  a  few  minutes  the  three  pseudo-Sopho- 
mores made  their  appearance,  and  they  had  improved 
very  much  by  practice  and  instruction.  Longstreet 
immediately  made  a  rush  for  the  poker ;  but  Villiers, 
who  had  been  hazed  past  all  endurance  on  one  or  two 
occasions,  and  had  firmly  made  up  his  mind  not  to 
submit  to  such  treatment  again,  considered  the  poker 
his  best  friend.  He  made  a  rush  for  it  too,  and  secured 
it.  Foiled  in  this  attempt,  Longstreet  danced  wildly 
about  the  room,  overturning  a  table  covered  with  books, 
and  several  chairs.  Adams  very  quietly  sat  down  in 
the  easy-chair  from  which  Villiers  had  risen  at  their 
first  entrance  ;  while  Hawes  slammed  the  door,  and  put 
his  back  to  it,  as  if  to  prevent  any  egress. 

These  movements  had  barely  taken  place  when  there 
was  a  knock ;  and,  the  door  being  opened  a  little  by 
Hawes,  Lewis  pushed  his  way  through.  At  first,  he 
was  to^)  much  surprised  to  speak.  Then  he  took  Villiers 
and  Sam  into  a  corner  apart,  and  whispered  excitedly 
that  the  Sophs,  were  having  a  rousing  punch  in  the 
room  next  to  his. 

.  "  They  made  so  much  noise  that  I  heard  them  through 
the  partition :  they  are  planning  a  grand  raid,  and  mean 
to  give  it  to  some  unlucky  devils ;  and  I  guess  these 


AK  ESCAPADE. 


87 


fellows  are  tlie  advance-guard.  The  rest  will  be  along 
soon  enough.  Kow  111  stay  with  you ;  and  well  pitch 
these  three  out  of  the  window,  and  serve  the  others  the 
same  way  when  they  come  along;  or  perhaps  I  had 
better  go  and  rally  all  the  fellows  I  can  find.  Let 
them  bring  pokers  and  clubs  ;  and  well  make  a  stand, 
and  beat  them  off,  if  it's  a  possible  thing:  for  it  is  about 
time  that  this  cursed  hazing  was  stopped." 

"  That's  my  idea  too,"  said  Sam.    "  We'll  keep  any 
more  from  coming  in,  if  you  are  not  gone  too  long." 
Well,  what  do  you  say,  Yilliers  ?  " 

"  Go,"  said  he,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  with  a 
solemn  determination  that  was  almost  too  much  for 
Sam  and  Lewis. 

The  latter  rushed  out ;  and  the  two  Freshmen  waited 
in  suspense.  The  marauder,  in  the  person  of  Long- 
street,  was  making  havoc  in  the  bedroom ;  but,  with  the 
probability  of  the  present  appearance  of  the  main  body 
of  Sophomores,  Yilliers  thought  it  best  to  wait  till 
Lewis  returned.  He  stood  near  the  door,  clutching  his 
poker,  his  face  pale  with  determination,  while  Hawes 
still  braced  his  back  against  the  door,  and  Longstreet 
made  general  disorder. 

Almost  instantly  Lewis  returned.  The  door  was 
pushed  open ;  and  a  dozen  Freshmen  burst  into  the 
apartment,  armed  with  such  weapons  of  defence  as 
were  at  hand,  and  ready  for  that  very  serious  emer- 
gency, a  collision  with  the  Sophomores. 

"  Where  are  they  ?  "  said  Smith,  sternly,  brandishing 
a  base-ball  bat. 

"  There  tliey  are,"  said  Winthrop,  setting  his  pipe 
down  on  the  mantel-piece  for  safety,  and  pointing  tc 


88 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


the  three  hazers,  who  had  withdrawn  into  a  corner  of 
the  room. 

"  I  thought  you  said  half  the  Sophomore  class  was 
here  1 "  exclaimed  Smith,  lowering  his  bat  with  a  look 
of  disappointment. 

"  Don't  you  be  alarmed.  They'll  be  along  fast 
enough,"  said  Lewis,  vehemently.  "You  wait  about 
three  minutes." 

"  Keep  a  good  guard  on  the  door,  Sam  ;  and  don't  let 
any  body  in,"  said  Smith,  warningly. 

"  I  should  think  you'd  better  keep  a  good  guard,  and 
not  let  anybody  out,"  put  in  Haskill  coolly,  pointing 
to  the  trio,  who  from  their  corner  were  edging  their 
way  toward  the  door,  evidently  bent  on  beating  a 
retreat. 

"  That's  so !  Don't  let  any  of  them  off,"  cried 
Lewis,  at  the  same  time  edging  away  from  them.  "  It 
isn't  often  we  corner  any  of  the  dogs  like  this.  —  Here, 
Villiers,  why  don't  you  pitch  into  them,  and  pay  off 
some  of  the  debts  you  owe  ?  " 

Villiers  stood  grasping  his  poker  hard,  and  looking 
dangerous.  He  was  strong  enough,  and,  when  aroused, 
desperate  enough,  to  be  a  most  formidable  antagonist. 
Urged  on  by  Lewis  and  the  others,  and  seeing  his  tor- 
mentors nearing  the  door,  while  the  rest  stood  aside  as 
if  to  give  them  passage,  he  rushed  forward,  and  clutch- 
ing the  foremost,  no  other  than  Adams,  by  the  throat, 
was  strangling  him  as  fast  as  possible,  when  Hawes,  — 
for  every  one  else  was  convulsed  with  laughter,  — 
called  out,  "  There  !  let  up  !  stop  !  it's  Adams  !  We're 
not  Sophs,  at  all !  " 

Villiers,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  from  the  surprise 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


89 


incident  to  this  most  unexpected  revelation,  joined, 
with  all  his  heart,  in  the  uproarious  merriment  that 
ensued." 

"I  supposed  you  were  regular  Sophomores,'' he  said 
simply,  when  the  uproar  had  subsided :  "  it  never  once 
entered  my  head  that  you  could  be  any  thing  else." 

"  Xo,  I  should  rather  guess  not,"  returned  the  de- 
lighted Longstreet.  "  I  flatter  myself  that  this  little 
game  was  pretty  well  played,"  and  he  set  about  restor- 
ing order  in  the  confused  room. 

The  poor  fellow  enjoyed  the  joke  so  heartily,  and 
took  it  all  in  such  good  part,  never  once  thinking  but 
that  Sam  and  Lewis  and  all  his  classmates  had  been 
duped  as  well  as  himself,  and  was  so  very  polite  and 
gentlemanly  and  simple  in  his  manner,  that  it  was  a 
pity  to  disabuse  him.  Hasldll  beat  a  retreat.  "  It's  no 
business  of  mine,"  quoth  he  as  he  descended  to  his 
room,  "  to  let  him  know  he  was  the  only  one  sold. 
I'm  sorry  I  said  any  thing  about  hazing  him ;  for 
he's  a  good  fellow,  if  he  is  a  dig.  Gad !  I  wonder 
how  Wentworth  will  crawl  out  of  it." 

Sam  was  at  that  moment  wondering  very  much  the 
same  thing,  and  stood  apart  with  a  very  serious  face, 
looking  into  the  fire.  I  think  all  were  sorry  that  the 
success  had  been  so  perfect;  and  mayhap  they  had 
departed,  and  oiu'  friend  never  known  the  extent  to 
which  he  had  been  victimized,  had  not  Winthrop  found 
it  impossible  to  keep  so  good  a  secret.  This  youth,  who 
had  just  charged  his  pipe  afresh,  walked  up  to  Yilliers, 
while  there  was  an  awkward  silence  on  the  part  of  the 
company,  and  grinning  stupidly  through  the  smoke  said, 
"Well,  Villiers,  I  suppose  you  think  none  of  us 


90 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


knew  who  those  fellows  were ;  but  we  did,  all  of  us. 
They  had  been  all  around  before  they  came  here,— to 
Lewis's  and  my  room,  and  Wentworth's ;  and  everybody 
found  them  out  before  long,  so  we  thought  we'd  see  if 
we  couldn't  do  au}^  better  here  ;  and  I'll  be  hanged  if 
Lewis  didn't  fix  it  just  right,  and  it's  the  best  thing 
that's  been  done  this  year,"  and  he  indulged  in  a  fresh 
laugh,  though  this  time  he  had  but  little  company. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Villiers,  breaking  the  silence, 
after  a  moment,  with  the  saddest  face  in  the  world,  and 
with  the  least  perceptible  tremor  in  his  voice,  "  I  never 
suspected  any  thing  wrong,  because  I  didn't  look  for 
hazing  from  my  own  classmates." 

They  had  begun  to  drop  out  now,  feeling  a  little 
ashamed  for  the  most  part,  save  perhaps  Winthrop, 
whom  nothing  could  shame. 

"Don't  take  it  so  hard,  old  fellow,"  said  Lewis,  giving 
him  a  friendly  clap  on  the  shoulder.  "  It  was  all  my 
fault,  and  I'm  mightily  sorry.  I  planned  the  whole 
thing,  and  am  the  only  one  to  blame ;  and  pretty  well 
done  it  was  too,  or  I'm  mistaken.  But  I  didn't  mean 
to  hurt  your  feelings ;  and  I  wouldn't  have  done  it  for 
the  world  if  I  had  thought  about  it  two  minutes." 

"  I  ask  your  pardon  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart," 
said  Adams,  in  his  graceful,  indolent  manner.  "  We  had 
no  right  here  on  such  an  errand." 

"Well,  I  don't,"  said  Longstreet,  rolling  up  the 
whites  of  his  eyes. 

Sam  was  now  left  alone  with  his  friend ;  and  they 
both  sat  in  silence,  looking  into  the  fire.  Only  once, 
when  Winthrop  had  declared  they  were  all  in  the  plot 
against  him,  had  he  turned  towards  his  friend,  as  if 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


9a 


expecting  that  he  at  least- would  disclaim  all  part  in  the 
affair  ;  ani  the  look  of  mute  reproach  which  overspread 
his  face,  stronger  than  words  or  even  an  angry  blow,  cut 
Sam  to  the  heart.  Whatever  were  his  faults,  and  of 
faults  he  had  his  full  share,  he  abhorred  anv  thingf-  like 
treachery:  and  treacherous  he  felt  that  he  had  been. 
He  alone  of  them  all  knew  his  friend's  tender  and  sensi- 
tive nature.  He  knew  better  than  any  his  isolated  posi- 
tion, treading  alone  the  path  of  duty,  despised  by  many 
for  his  constant  application,  secretly  envied  by  not  a  few 
who  grudged  him  his  high  standing,  and  an  object  of 
indifference  to  the  rest.  That  he  who  knew  all  this  so 
well,  and  who  almost  alone  of  the  whole  class  called 
himself  Yilliers's  friend,  should  conspire  against  him, 
was  hard  indeed.  He  sat  thinking  over  these  things, 
and  watching  the  ffickerins^  blaze. 

Xor  was  Yilliers  inclined  to  be  talkative.  He  was 
conscious  of  having  been  thoroughly  duped.  The 
black  fellows  had  been  real  Sophomores  to  him ;  a 
dozen  classmates  had  been  witnesses  of  his  credulity : 
and  before  breakfast  the  next  morning  he  would  be  the 
laughing-stock  of  the  whole  college.  He  had  realized 
before  this  that  it  was  too  much  to  expect  sympathy 
from  the  class  at  large ;  but  that  this  yoimg  fellow  in 
whom  he  felt  so  deep  an  interest,  whom  he  had  taken 
to  his  heart,  and  who  seemed  to  return  his  friendship, 
should  be  no  different  from  the  rest  of  them,  was  hard 
indeed.  At  this  moment  he  felt  quite  forlorn  and  dis- 
couraged. 

At  length  Sam  broke  the  silence,  and  meekly  said, 
"  Yilliers,  I  know  that  nothing  I  can  say  can  rmdo 
the  mischief  I  have  done.    I  didn't  for  a  moment  think 


92 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


what  I  was  doing ;  but  I  feel  and  know  just  how  mean 
and  contemptible  I  have  been.  I  can't  think  of  any 
thing  bad  enough  to  say  about  myself.  If  you  will 
forget  it "  — 

"  It's  all  right,  Sam,"  interrupted  Villiers ;  "  I 
thought  I  must  have  been  mistaken  in  you  ;  but  I 
know  that  I  was  not.  You  know  I  don't  care  about 
the  others."  The  two  parted  better  friends  than 
ever,  though  it  is  plain  that,  through  Sam's  thought- 
lessness, the  friendship  of  these  two  had  nearly  come 
to  an  end. 

Next  morning  the  letter  from  home  came  with  the 
invitations  for  Huntingdon  and  Villiers  to  spend  the 
recess  at  Mrs.  Went  worth's,  which  was  immediately 
communicated  to  his  chum.  Huntingdon  accepted 
with  pleasure.  It  was  hardly  worth  while  to  go  to 
New  York  for  just  five  or  six  days  ;  and  though  he  had 
many  invitations  elsewhere,  (for  the  distinguished-look- 
ing Freshman  had  come  to  be  quite  prominent  socially), 
he  had  his  own  reasons  for  preferring  to  accept  this 
one ;  while  Villiers  assented  cheerfully  to  Sam's  earnest 
request,  if  for  no  other  reason,  to  show  that  the  follies 
of  the  night  before  had  been  heartily  forgotten. 

But  before  the  time  of  departure  arrived,  Sam  renewed 
an  acquaintance  with  an  old  playmate,  or,  rather,  with 
a  playmate  of  his  youthful  days;  which  resulted  in 
bringing  about  a  friendship  with  Adams,  and  establish- 
ing him  on  a  very  pleasant  social  footing  at  Cambridge. 

To  Sam's  surprise,  Adams  one  day  took  his  arm,  and 
asked  him  if  he  remembered  a  Miss  Eldredge. 

"  No,"  replied  Sam,  not  recognizing  one  of  his  little 
playmates  under  that  name. 


AN  ESCAPADE. 


93 


"  One  who  used  to  live  near  you  at  Little  Harbor," 
suggested  Adams. 

"  Ah  !  Mary  Eldredge  !  yes,  indeed ;  she  isn't  your  — 
your  "  — 

"  She  is  a  very  particular  friend  of  mine,"  returned 
Adams,  quietly.  Everybody  knew  that  Will  Adams  was 
"  very  sweet  "  on  a  Miss  Eldredge  who  was,  so  every- 
body said,  the  nicest  girl  in  Cambridge  ;  and  Sam  now 
perceived  why  it  was  that  Will's  classmates,  or  rather 
his  companions,  called  him  "  Mary." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  her  well ;  but  it  must  be  seven  or 
eight  years  since  she  has  been  to  Little  Harbor." 

"  Very  likely :  she  saw  you  in  the  street,  and  asked 
who  you  were,  and  insisted  on  my  bringing  jou  to  tea 
this  evening." 

Sam  demurred  to  this,  not  being  much  of  a  lady's 
man. 

"  I  shall  be  especially  obliged  to  you,"  continued 
Adams,  "  if  you  will  go.  There  is  to  be  a  ball  at  the 
new  hotel  somewhere  near  your  place  on  Thanksgiving 
night ;  isn't  there  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,  there  is,"  returned  Sam,  who  had  been 
looking  forward  to  the  occasion  with  glowing  anticipa- 
tions. 

"  Well,  Mary  —  Miss  Eldredge  is  going  down  to 
spend  Thanksgiving  with  her  cousins  at  Gov.  Eldredge's. 
He  lives  somewhere  near  you,  doesn't  he  ?  " 

"  A  matter  of  seven  or  eight  miles." 

"  That's  pretty  near  for  the  country,  I  take  it.  At 
any  rate,  she  is  going,  and  going  to  the  ball  of  course. 
It  must  be  a  bore,  but  can't  be  helped  as  I  see.  I  can't 
get  off  any  way,  or  I  should  go  too." 


94 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


"  You  had  better  manage  it  someliow :  you  would 
liav<3  no  end  of  a  good  time." 

"  No,  I  can't  go,  but  you  will ;  and  I  want  you  to 
take  particular  care  of  Miss  Eldredge,  and  you  must 
go  to  tea  this  evening." 

"  Then  I  must,"  returned  Sam,  laughing  :  "  only,  to 
tell  the  truth,  I'm  awfully  afraid  of  these  Cambridge 
girls." 

"  I  don't  blame  you.  I  should  be  afraid  of  them  my- 
self if  it  was  worth  while ;  only  this  one  isn't  a  Cam- 
bridge girl  (except  that  she  is  here  attending  school), 
but  an  old  friend  of  yours,  and  of  your  mother  and 
sister,  and  a  very  good  friend  too." 

The  two  young  men  went  to  tea  that  evening  as 
arranged ;  but  the  introduction  of  Miss  Mary  Eldredge 
must  be  deferred  till  the  Thanksgiving  ball. 


vn. 

AT  ho:me. 

The  Tvell-remembered  sitting-room  in  Mrs.  Went- 
worth's  house  had  put  on  its  winter  garb,  and  looked 
especially  cosey  and  comfortable  to  the  three  students, 
after  their  long  ride  in  the  chill  eyening  air  of  autumn. 
A  warm  blaze  from  the  ample  fireplace  tinted  the  quaint 
oak  mouldings  and  panels,  and  the  curious  antique  fur- 
niture, and  shed  its  amber  light  oyer  the  rich  carpet ;  a 
large  stand  of  tlirifty  house-plants  filled  the  generous  bay- 
window,  and  a  splendid  ivy,  branching  out  from  it,  quite 
made  the  circuit  of  the  room ;  a  large,  massive,  curi- 
ously caryed  oak  table,  a  relic  of  Colonial  days,  seryed 
at  once  for  book-case,  secretary,  and  work-table  for  the 
ladies ;  the  piano  was  in  its  accustomed  corner ;  and  a 
most  grateful  air  of  domestic  harmony  and  quiet  com- 
fort pervaded  the  apartment.  This  had  ever  been  the 
family  room  of  the  mansion  during  the  winter  season. 

"  We  were  very  selfish,  I  must  confess,''  said  Kate  as 
they  sat  by  the  firelight,  to  invite  you  gentlemen  here 
at  this  season  of  the  year  for  so  long  a  time  ;  for  really 
we  have  very  little  to  offer  in  the  way  of  excitement. 
The  two  pigs  are  to  be  killed  to-morrow;  and  if  you 
are  of  a  bloodthirsty  disposition,  you  may  like  to  wit- 
ness the  deed  ;  "  and  she  laughed  merrily.  Thanks- 

95 


96 


STUDENT-LITE  AT  HARVARD. 


giving  eve  we  are  going  to  entertain  a  little  company," 
continued  Kate.  "  Sam  has  so  many  friends  living  far 
and  near,  that  mamma  thought  it  would  be  pleasant 
for  him,  and  perhaps  for  you,  to  meet  some  of  them." 

To  this  Huntingdon  replied  that  it  would  certainly 
be  very  pleasant. 

"  Thanksgiving  evening  there  is  to  be  a  grand  ball 
at  the  hotel  on  the  point ;  that  is,  grand  for  us.  We  are 
to  have  a  band  from  Boston ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
the  company  will  feel  honored  that  three  Harvard  stu- 
dents grace  the  occasion  with  their  presence." 

"  Yes,  particularly  when  they  discover  that  they  are 
Freshmen,"  said  Huntingdon. 

"  Then  you  will  certainly  require  some  rest  after  so 
much  dissipation,  and  at  least  one  day  to  compose  your 
minds  after  your  twelve  weeks  of  hard  study ;  for  you 
really  have  a  most  worn-out  appearance."  (They  did 
not,  indeed,  look  as  though  they  had  consumed  much 
midnight  oil,  or  wasted  themselves  with  too  constant 
application.)  "  Sunday  I  presume  you  can  go  to 
church,  like  exemplary  young  men." 

"  I,  for  one,"  returned  Huntingdon,  "  am  quite  un- 
prepared for  such  a  round  of  pleasure :  we  shall  go 
back  quite  biases.''^ 

"  But,  really,"  continued  Kate,  "  you  don't  know  how 
disappointed  I  am,  that  you  should  all  be  in  such  a 
hearty  condition.  I  believe  there  can  in  reality  be  very 
little  hardship  or  hard  work  about  college  life,  after  all. 
Mamma  and  I  have  worried  about  Sam  by  the  hour 
together,  imagining  all  sorts  of  horrible  things;  that 
he  was  being  destroyed  by  those  wicked  Sophomores, 
or  that  he  was  ruining  his  health  by  hard  study,  — 


AT  HOME. 


97 


thou2"li  we  ouglit  to  have  known  better  than  that,  — • 
and  I'm  sure  I  expected  to  see  you  all  pale  and  lan- 
guid ;  and,  I  declare,  I  think  it  is  too  bad !  "  At  this 
ingenuous  statement  there  was  a  good  deal  of  mirth. 

Some  little  time  after  this,  as  Kate  and  Yilliers  were 
by  themselATs  for  a  moment,  she  said  to  him,  "  I  have 
been  very  glad  to  hear  so  good  an  account  of  you ;  and 
you  don't  know  how  glad  I  am,"  she  added,  with  deep- 
ening voice  and  color,  "  that  Sam  has  done  so  well. 
You  can't  know  how  anxious  we  have  been  about  him, 
mamma  and  I.  He  is  so  thoughtless  and  impulsive,  and 
so  easily  influenced ;  his  letters  gave  accounts  of  such 
strange  doings,  too.  But  the  President  speaks  very 
flatteringly  of  him ;  and  I  am  sure  his  good  standing  is 
owing  a  great  deal  to  his  being  so  much  with  you.  I 
want  to  thank  you  ever  so  much  for  being  so  good  a 
friend  to  him." 

I  cannot  even  guess  what  reply  Villiers  would  have 
made  to  this  most  unexpected  speech,  had  not  the  others 
joined  them  just  then,  and  covered  his  confusion ;  but 
I  am  sure  that  the  pleasure  of  those  three  minutes 
more  than  repaid  any  sacrifices  he  had  made. 

Then  Huntingdon  wondered  whether  Miss  Went- 
worth's  fingers  still  retained  their  wonted  magic  power 
over  the  piano-keys ;  and  that  young  lady,  ever  ready 
to  please,  seated  herself  at  the  instrument. 

"  That  is  right,  Kate  !  "  exclaimed  Sam.  "  I  knew 
that  there  was  something  wanting  to  make  me  feel  quite 
at  home  once  more,  — as  though  I  had  never  been  away. 
You  know  the  pieces  I  like  best :  play  them  all."  For 
the  next  hour  the  boy  was  a  picture  of  happiness  and 
contentment.     Seated  on  a  low  stool  at  his  mother's 


98 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


feet, — his  mother  wliom  he  loved  so  dearly,  and  whom 
he  had  not  seen  for  so  long,  —  listening  to  the  familiar 
music,  college-life  with  its  duties  and  pleasures,  haz- 
ing, and  Freshman  pranks,  and  the  future  with  all  its 
bright  anticipations,  passed  from  his  consciousness  ;  and 
he  lived  over  again  the  days  of  his  boyhood  with  their 
many  happy  hours. 

Nor  had  Mrs.  Went  worth  known  a  happier  day  than 
this  for  years.  In  spite  of  her  anxious  forebodings,  her 
darling  boy  was  at  home  once  more,  safe  and  well; 
unchanged,  except  that  her  fond  eyes  saw  a  manlier 
beauty  in  his  cornel}^  proportions,  and  smiled  approval 
on  his  newly  awakened  tastes  and  graceful  and  open- 
hearted  extravagance.  What  was  money  if  it  made 
him  happier  ?  He  should  have  it  without  stint.  If  he 
could  but  grow  into  the  measure  and  fulness  of  a  noble 
and  honest  man,  like  the  one  whose  image  was  ever  in 
her  heart,  she  Avould  ask  for  nothing  more.  Now,  at 
least  she  would  not  think  of  the  dangers  that  beset 
him ;  she  would  cherish  hopes,  and  hopes  alone.  For 
once  in  her  life,  she  forgot  her  duty  as  hostess.  May 
we  not  pardon  her  ? 

What  castles  in  Spain,  filled  with  beautiful  possibili- 
ties, Villiers  was  building  all  this  time,  it  would  be  hard 
to  tell.  All  conversation  had  long  since  ceased ;  and  the 
melody  of  the  music,  and  the  golden  light  of  the  fire, 
filled  the  room.  Huntingdon  was  conscious  of  time 
and  space,  if  no  one  else  was,  and  was  even  then  won- 
dering how  long  this  sort  of  entertainment  was  destined 
to  last. 

What  a  party  of  dreamers  ! "  Kate's  merry  voice 
rang  out,  as  she  rose  from  the  piano.  "  I  do  believe  I 
played  you  all  to  sleep  with  that  last  slumber  song." 


AT  HOME. 


99 


"  For  one,  I  am  tired,"  said  Sam,  as  lie  rose,  and  shook 
himself ;  "  and  I  know  you  fellows  must  be  too." 
*  The  circle  broke  up  for  the  night,  and  the  room  was 
tenanted  only  by  the  shadows  that  danced  grotesquely 
on  the  walls ;  and  even  these  disappeared  as  the  flicker- 
ing light  faded,  and  left  a  heap  of  glowing  embers. 

How  desperately  Huntingdon  would  have  been  bored 
by  the  simple  pleasures  of  this  coimtry  life,  if  he  had 
not  had  his  chum's  sister  to  flirt  with  during  these  five 
days  !  He  had  counted,  on  this  diversion,  to  be  sure,  or 
the  Wentworth  mansion  vv^ould  never  have  been  honored 
with  his  company.  There  was  from  the  house  a  mag- 
nificent view  of  the  ever-changing  ocean;  and  nearer,  the 
placid  waters  of  Little  Harbor  shut  in  by  the  two 
encircling  arms  of  the  land,  with  the  river  flowing  hard 
by,  and  the  brown  turf  sloping  gently  to  its  brink, 
formed  a  very  pretty  picture  in  the  mellow  autumn  air. 
There  was  a  most  charming  walk  extending  for  miles 
along  the  river's  bank,  over  brown  fields  and  through 
still,  leafless  woods,  with  here  and  there  a  rocky  point 
thick  set  with  evergreens ;  but  if  Huntingdon  found 
any  charm  in  these  attractions  of  nature,  it  was  because 
he  viewed  them  with  a  very  fresh  and  charming  blue- 
ejed  girl  for  a  companion  and  guide.  In  that  short 
summer  afternoon  which  he  had  spent  in  her  company, 
he  had  put  forth  all  his  powers  to  please,  and  felt 
certain  that  he  had  made  good  progress  in  her  favor. 
He  had  resolved  then  to  complete  his  conquest  at  the 
earliest  opportunity,  and  had  come  to  her  ho\Tse  at  this 
time  with  a  recollection  of  his  determination  which  an 
hour  in  her  company  had  only  served  to  deepen  and 
make  firmer.    With  his  peculiar  tact  at  bringing  about 


100 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


his  own  ends,  he  took  her  off  the  next  morning  for  one 
of  her  favorite  strolls,  and  made  more  progress  towards 
a  frank  and  friendly  intimacy  than  Villiers  had  done 
during  all  those  summer  weeks  that  he  had  remained 
at  the  hotel.  He  was  more  charmed  with  her,  too, 
than  he  could  have  thought  possible. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  he  half  musingly  as  he  repaired  to 
his  room  to  make  his  toilet  for  dinner,  "  that  girl  is  the 
most  entertaining  compound  of  sprightliness,  charming 
simplicity,  and  innocent  enthusiasm,  I  ever  saw.  She  is 
as  fresh  as  a  daisy  and  as  sweet  as  a  rose ;  and  there  is 
real  grit  in  her  too.  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  a 
man  might  make  an  awful  ass  of  himself,  and  think  he 
was  getting  on  to  his  heart's  content,  when  really  she 
hadn't  thought  of  him  twice.  Well,  I  propose  to  try 
the  experiment,  and  I  can't  see  who  there  is  to  head  me 
off :  there  will  be  the  pleasure  of  the  pursuit  if  nothing 
more." 

Fires  were  blazing  in  every  room  of  the  house  on 
Thanksgiving  eve  ;  and  their  warm  ruddy  light  welcomed 
the  fast-assembling  guests.  It  was  to  be  a  company 
of  young  people  from  the  neighboring  farms,  for  the 
most  part ;  though,  as  Adams  had  suggested,  a  matter 
of  six  or  seven  miles  was  not  considered,  in  counting 
up  the  neighbors.  The  company  was  soon  complete,  — 
a  score  of  pretty  girls,  fresh,  rosy,  and  tastily  attired, 
with  perhaps  half  as  many  young  men  for  escorts. 

The  large  room  on  the  north  side  of  the  house,  hardly 
used  once  in  a  decade,  with  its  oak  floor  and  wainscot- 
ing, hung  v/ith  a  long  row  of  family  portraits,  had  been 
stripped  of  its  cumbersome  furniture,  a  roaring  fire  had 
been  built  in  the  fireplace,  and  the  games  were  to  be 


AT  HOME. 


101 


played  there  by  its  liglit;  for  tlii-  was  to  be  a  boisterous 
merry-maldng,  something  to  give  yoii  all  a  good  ajipe- 
tite  for  to-morroAT.""  Sam  remarked,  gleefully.  Villiers 
and  Huntingdon  were  soon  presented  to  tlie  guests,  and 
all  was  in  readiness  for  the  games. 

Xow."  said  Sam  to  lii.>  si>ter.  "let  us  all  go  into  the 
nortli  room  before  any  one  settles  down  in  here.    If  we 
can  once  get  fairly  .-tarted.  there  is  no  danger  but  that 
thev  will  have  a  first-rate  evenmo;."* 
'•^Vhat  sliall  we  begin  with.  Sam?  " 

Oh.  there  is  nothing  better  than  blindman's 
buff." 

So  to  the  north  room  the  company  repaired.  Sam 
placed  a  bandage  across  Kate's  eyes,  and  then  over  hia 
own.  The  single  simple  rule  of  the  game,  that  the  lady 
must  catch  a  gentleman,  and  the  gentleman  a  lady,  was 
announced :  and  with  a  shout  Sam  rushed  forward 
toward  the  point  Avhere  he  had  last  caught  a  glimp-e 
of  a  parcel  of  roguish-looking  girls.  There  was  a  sound 
of  suppressed  screams  and  rustling  drapru\v.  and  the 
group  scattered  in  breathless  excitement  before  his 
advance  :  but  not  quite  soon  enough,  for  hi-^  arms  were 
closed  around  a  victim,  and  the  handkercjiief  was  forth- 
with transferred  to  her  eyes. 

Kate,  though  not  less  active  or  skilful,  was  not  so 
forttmate  :  many  a  big  fellow  broke  away  from  her 
grasp,  or  with  a  hearty  "haw,  haw,"  dodged  under  her 
arms. 

••It  isn't  half  fair."  she  said,  pausing  a  moment  to 
recover  breath  after  her  brave  tliough  fruitless  exer- 
tions :  •■  yoti  gentlemen  are  so  hard  to  hold.  I  have 
caught  ever  so  many,  and  they  all  get  awajr." 


102 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


There  was  a  laugli  at  this  ingenuous  statement,  from 
masculine  throats ;  and  Kate  darted  forward  in  the 
direction  whence  it  proceeded. 

"  There  goes  another,"  she  cried,  as  a  youth  slipped 
under  her  arms,  which  had  otherwise  enfolded  him. 
"  Ah,  Mr.  Villiers,"  said  she  as  she  fairly  cornered  that 
gentleman,  who  had  been  vainly  and  awkwardly  en- 
deavoring to  escape  her,  "  I  have  caught  you,  have  I  ? 
you  will  have  to  kneel,  you  are  so  tall.  Is  that  too 
tight?"  she  added,  as  she  covered  his  eyes  with  the 
handkerchief.  "  I  must  be  quite  sure  that  you  do  not 
see  at  all.  Plow  many  fingers  do  I  hold  up  ?  "  and  there 
was  a  half-suppressed  giggle  from  the  girls :  "  three  ? 
No.  I  tMnk  you  are  blind  enough  ; "  and  indeed  he 
was,  as  blind  as  Bartimeus  of  old.  The  game  was  to  be 
played,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  without  any  advan- 
tage on  his  part :  whether  he  succeeded  in  capturing  a 
successor  was  a  matter  of  secondary  consideration. 

For  the  succeeding  twenty  minutes,  the  sport  was 
infinitely  amusing.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a 
more  awkward  or  ridiculous  figure  than  was  cut  by 
our  good  friend  Villiers,  as  he  moved  about  with  bent 
back,  head  thrust  forward,  and  outstretched  arms,  most 
soberly  in  earnest  Avithal.  Did  he  corner  a  bevy  of 
breathless  girls,  —  for  he  moved  around  with  an  energy 
that  kept  every  one  stirring,  —  just  as  he  was  about 
to  enfold  them,  they  rushed  shrieking  under  his  arms, 
and  he  grasped  the  thin  air.  Occasionally  he  would 
bring  up  against  the  wall  of  the  room,  with  a  bump ; 
and  he  must  have  ached  from  more  than  one  bruise. 

"  Pull  up  the  handkerchief  a  little,"  whispered  Sam 
to  him.    "  You  must  see  something,  or  you  never  will 


AT  HOME. 


103 


catch  anybody."  But  this  Villiers  would  not  do.  At 
length  his  arms  closed  around  a  female  form ;  and  at 
the  same  time  he  felt  himself  securely  grasped.  Amid 
shouts  of  laughter,  he  pulled  the  handkerchief  from  his 
eyes,  only  to  see  that  he  had  caught  the  young  lady 
who  was  for  the  moment  his  partner  in  the  game. 

Now  Kate  declared  that  they  had  had  enough  of 
blindman's-buff ;  and  several  games  which  entailed  a 
redemption  of  forfeits  on  the  company  were  heartily 
enjoyed,  until  they  adjourned  to  the  dining-room  to  par- 
take of  a  substantial  supper. 

A  group  of  young  men  standing  apart  by  themselves 
were  earnestly  discussing  some  apparently  very  interest- 
ing question  in  half  v/hispers.  Sam's  quick  ear  caught 
the  word  "  Copenhagen  ;  "  and,  Avith  a  roguish  smile,  he 
darted  out  of  the  room,  and  presently  re-appeared  with 
the  maternal  clothes-line. 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  going  to  do  with  that 
rope,  Sam  Wentworth?"  exclaimed  a  merry-looking  girl 
in  a  more  than  half-pleased  manner.  (They  had  by  this 
time  returned  to  the  north  room.)  "  I  hope  you  are 
not  going  to  hang  yourself." 

"  No,  I  have  a  better  use  for  it  than  that :  we  are 
going  to  play  Copenhagen,  and  kiss  some  of  you  girls." 

There  was  a  general  exclamation,  on  the  part  of  the 
young  people,  at  this  announcement.  The  young  men 
manifested  their  hearty  approval  of  the  idea ;  and  the 
young  ladies  were  in  a  flutter  of  modest  embarrassment. 
One  or  two,  more  decided  that  the  rest,  declared  that 
tJiei/  would  not  play  that  game,  at  any  rate.  But  the  line 
was  speedily  reduced  to  the  proper  length  ;  and,  more  or 
less  reluctantly,  all  joined  the  circle. 


104 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Come,  mother,"  called  Sam:  "we  want  you  too; 
and,  in  truth,  she  was  far  from  being  the  least  attractive 
in  point  of  personal  beauty. 

"You  will  have  to  excuse  me  this  once,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  kindly :  "  I  am  a  little  too  fatigued." 

"  I  will  keep  Mrs.  Wentworth  company,  if  you 
please,"  said  Villiers.  "  I  believe  I  never  saw  this  game 
played ;  and  I  am  sure  I  should  only  be  in  the  way." 

At  this  most  imiocent  confession,  there  was  a  general 
titter  on  the  part  of  the  girls,  while  the  young  fellows, 
with  less  self-control,  laughed  outright. 

"  Oh,  nonsense  I  "  returned  Sam,  merrily.  "  You  will 
learn  it  in  two  seconds ;  '  for  it  is  nothing  but  kiss- 
ing ; '  "  and  he  brought  his  reluctant  friend  into  the 
ring.  "  Keep  fast  hold  of  this  rope  with  your  hands, 
and  look  sharp  that  none  of  the  girls  strike  them :  if 
one  does,  you  must  kiss  her  before  she  can  get  outside." 
In  a  whisper  to  the  young  lady  who  was  next  him,  he 
added,  "  I  would  wager  any  thing  that  he  never  kissed 
a  girl  in  his  life." 

There  was  no  delay;  and  the  frolic  was  almost  im- 
mediately at  high  carnival.  The  game  was  played  with 
a  zest  which  our  country  neighbors  alone  know  how  to 
give  to  such  sports.  But  amid  all  that  light-hearted 
company,  there  was  no  one  who  entered  into  the  spirit 
of  the  fun  with  a  keener  enjoyment  than  the  fastidious 
Mr.  Huntingdon.  This  fine-looking  young  fellow,  with 
distinguished  manner  and  fascinating  face,  was  the  hero 
of  the  evening.  The  young  ladies  declared  that  he  was 
splendid,  and  struck  his  hands,  and  allowed  him  to  kiss 
them  with  the  best  possible  grace  ;  all  save  Kate,  who 
eluded  his  pursuit  to  the  end.    Thev  were  less  kind  to 


AT  HOME. 


105 


their  rural  beaux,  however ;  and  raany  a  one  had  a  rough 
struggle  with  some  brawny  young  farmer,  preferring  to 
be  almost  pulled  to  pieces,  rather  than  submit  to  condi- 
tions which  had  been  agreed  upon  from  the  outset. 

Yilliers's  modesty  at  least  was  the  genuine  article. 
He  stood  there  all  this  while,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout 
for  his  hands,  and  feeling  very  uncomfortable,  and  un- 
questionably much  disgusted  too,  at  seeing  these  rough 
farmers,  one  after  another,  kiss  the  fair  young  hostess. 
She  was  far  too  sacred  an  object,  in  his  estimation,  for 
such  rude  treatment.  In  an  evil  moment,  however, 
while  his  wits  were  a-wool-gatheriug,  this  same  young 
lady  gave  his  fingers  a  smart  rap,  and  slipped  under  the 
rope,  looking  as  rosy  and  as  roguish  as  possible. 

He  had  no  alternative  but  to  enter  the  circle,  though 
he  had  never  before  experienced  any  thing  more  un- 
pleasant. What  does  not  a  shy,  modest  young  man 
suffer  at  such  a  time  as  this  !  It  was  e^ddent  that  the 
girls  had  no  idea  of  having  him  kiss  them :  they 
dropped  the  rope  whenever  he  came  near :  and  he  must 
needs  have  remained  a  long  time  in  the  ring,  had  not 
Kate  taken  pity  on  him,  and  permitted  him  to  touch 
her  fingers,  after  which,  being  fairly  seized  by  Yilliers, 
she  put  up  her  rosy  cheek  for  his  salute.  Thus  it  hap- 
pened that  Yilliers  was  more  fortunate  than  his  more 
accomplished  classmate,  though  he  barely  touched  her 
face  with  his  lips,  turning  as  red  as  a  rose  at  the  time, 
while  Sam,  who  had  been  waiting  and  watching  for  it, 
was  convulsed  with  laughter. 

This  was  the  last  game,  as  many  had  a  long  diive 
home  before  them,  and  it  had  been  prolonged  to  a  late 
hour.   Before  the  party  broke  up,  they  gathered  around 


106 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


Kate's  piano,  and  sang  for  half  an  hour  the  simple 
popular  son^3  of  the  time ;  and  I  am  not  sure  hut  this 
was  the  very  pleasantest  part  of  the  very  pleasant 
evening.  Then  with  much  muffling  up  in  furs  and 
warm  wraps,  and  much  shaking  of  hands,  and  many 
invitations  to  Huntingdon  to  call,  and  injunctions  to 
Sam  to  be  sure  and  come  and  bring  his  friend,  the  guests 
departed;  and  quiet  reigned  once  more  in  the  Went- 
worth  mansion. 

The  next  evening  was  the  occasion  of  the  grand 
ball.  The  toilets  of  our  party  were  completed  at  an 
early  hour ;  the  family  carriage,  a  somewhat  cumber- 
some and  old-fashioned  but  most  comfortable  vehicle, 
was  brought  into  requisition ;  and,  after  an  informal  tea, 
our  friends  started  on  their  eight  miles'  drive  to  the 
hotel  on  the  point,  a  dangerous  journey  over  the  rough 
roads,  with  a  less  experienced  driver  than  Caleb. 

The  hotel,  an  immense  structiu-e,  had  been  secured 
and  made  ready  for  the  occasion,  lighted  at  every 
window,  and  warmed  as  thoroughly  as  possible.  The 
large  dining-hall  had  been  transformed  into  a  ball-room, 
and  elegantly  decorated ;  and,  when  the  Wentworth 
party  arrived,  the  ball  had  already  begun.  The  lights 
shone  brightly  over  "  fair  women  and  brave  men ;  "  the 
air  was  filled  with  the  inspiriting  music  of  the  band, 
and  the  dancers  were  treading  the  measures. 

This,  be  it  remembered,  was  no  common  countr}^  ball, 
for  the  notables  of  the  neighborhood  from  far  and  near 
v/ere  gathered  together,  and  from  out  this  assembly  you 
might  have  culled  a  great  deal  of  wealth,  culture, 


AT  HOME. 


107 


and  distinction.  An  ex-governor,  whose  name  liasl  ,  ,:: 
heard,  there  certainly  was  with  his  faniilr.  a  jul:;  : 
high  repute,  and  several  families  from  the  bine-'  i . 
aristocracy  of  the  comity.  There  was  also  a  sprinhhnj 
of  uniforms  amid  tlie  brilliant  toilets,  several  officer..- 
from  the  o-overnment  vard  attached  to  the  neiomborinc^ 
city  being  present :  and  even  a  metropolitan  ball-room 
might  have  fared  badly  by  comparison. 

Villier^  who  did  not  dance,  and  who  was  thus  very 
glad  to  act  as  escort  for  Mrs.  ^Ventworth,  soon  found 
himself  introduced  to  some  A^ery  agreeable  people,  who 
were  also  content  with  watching  the  enjoyment  of  the 
young  peopile.  and  foimd  the  evening  passing  most 
pleasantly. 

•*  Every  thing  C|uite  an  fait^''  was  Himtingdon's  inward 
comment,  as.  after  a  promenade  aroujid  the  hall  with 
Kate,  he  led  her  out  for  a  Cj_uadrille.  The  ghd  had  never 
shone  to  better  advantage :  the  spmt  of  the  music 
seemed  to  possess  her  feet,  and  the  very  poetry  of 
motion  was  exemplified  in  her  graceful  dancing.  She 
was  the  very  picture  of  innocent  enthusiasm  and  beautv. 

Sam.  mindful  of  the  charge  which  Adams  had  given 
him.  took  advantage  of  the  time  between  the  dances  to 
seek  out  Miss  Eldredge.  He  made  the  circuit  of  the 
hall  in  cpiiest  of  her.  receiving  many  a  hearty  greeting 
from  his  youthful  friends  and  accjuaintances.  with  many 
an  encoui^aguig  pressure  of  the  hand  from  his  older 
friends,  and  presently  ei:  -  red  the  Eldredge  party. 
Mary  Elcbeclge.  "the  ni_L---:  ^nl  in  Cambridge,''  was  at' 
least  not  a  great  beautv.  She  was  a  perfect  brimette, 
fetitrz  in  figure,  graceful  though  decided  in  manner, 
and  brimful  of  life  without  beino-  too  enero-etie.  She 


108 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


had  that  rarest  of  gifts,  perfect  tact,  and  a  kindness  of 
heart  which  almost  never  made  an  enemy.  There  was 
withal  a  subtile  magnetism  about  her  character  and 
influence  which  made  one  forget  that  she  was  not  hand- 
some ;  and  she  attracted  those  about  her  with  a  stronger 
power  tlian  any  mere  charms  of  face  or  figure  could 
have  given  her. 

"  You  come  late  to  the  feast,"  she  said,  giving  Sam 
her  hand  and  her  best  smile. 

Sam.  —  Yes :  we  had  a  long  drive  over  a  dangerous 
road. 

Miss  Eldredge  (accepting  his  proffered  arm,  and 
joining  the  promenaders).  —  I  should  have  never  recog- 
nized my  little  playmate  in  the  beautiful  young  lady 
your  sister  has  grown  to  be.  Does  she  know  I  am 
here  ? 

Sam.  —  No.  I  kept  that  back  for  a  surprise.  I 
wanted  to  bring  you  up,  and  see  if  she  would  remem- 
ber you. 

Miss  E.  —  The  two  gentlemen  of  your  party  are 
classmates  ? 

Sam.  —  Yes :  Huntingdon  is  my  chum,  and  Villiers  a 
particular  friend. 

Miss  E.  —  I  have  heard  about  them  both.  I  want 
you  to  take  me  to  your  mother  and  sister  at  once. 
(  They  passed  on.) 

Kate  was  so  entirely  monopolized  by  the  gentlemen 
that  it  was  not  easy  to  secure  her  attention  at  once  ; 
but  Sam  made  his  way  to  his  mother's  little  circle,  and 
his  companion  was  almost  immediately  transferred  to 
Villiers.  After  introductions  and  greetings,  these  two 
joined  the  promenaders. 


AT  HOME. 


109 


"  I  never  danced  in  my  life,  Miss  Eldredge,''  lie  said, 
looking  straight  into  her  eyes  (the  band  had  smi-k  np 
a  beAvitchinc;'  y^altz.  and  the  romici^  ladv's  eves  had 
for  one  instant  glanced  almost  nnconscionsly  at  the 
conples  that  vrere  ciix-ling  around  the  hallj,  *'or  I 
should  certainly  ask  you  to  be  my  partner  now:  and  it 
is  hardly  just  to  keep  you  from  the  enjoyment."' 

Jliss  Eldredge.  —  Oh,  no,  indeed ;  a  little  rest  is  re- 
freshing. You  say  you  never  dance.  You  don't  think 
it  vrrong,  I  trust  ?  I  hope  it  isn't ;  for  I  enjoy  it  so 
much. 

Villiers.  —  Xo  ;  I  can't  see  why  it  is,  —  properly  in- 
dulged in.    I  am  sure  I  regret  my  ignorance. 

He  looked  enviously  at  Huntingdon,  vdio  whirled  by 
with  Kate  in  his  arms. 

Jliss  Eldredge  (following  his  glance).  —  That  lady 
with  Mr.  Huntingdon  is  an  elegant  dancer,  is  she  not  ? 
(very  demurely). —  Do  you  know  her  name  ? 

Villiers.  —  Miss  Wentworth,  —  Sam  "Wentworth's 
sister. 

Jliss  Eldredge. — Is  she,  indeed?  You  must  know 
her  well.  then.    She  is  ahnost  a  pretty  girl ;  is  she  not  ? 

ViUirrs  (a  little  startled  from  his  placid  dignity). — 
I  should  say  she  was  more  than  almost." 

Jliss  Eldredge. — ^Vhy,  no.  Mr.  Villiers:  her  hair  is 
verv  well  (  ?^liss  Eldredo^e  had  been  secretlv  admiringr 
those  beautiful  tresses)  :  but  you  don't  call  her  nose  a 
perfect  feature,  do  you  ? 

Villitrs  (^vith  warmth).  —  I  am  sure  I  never  noticed 
that  her  nose  was  bad.  She  has  the  finest  eyes  in  the 
world ;  and  her  figure  is  —  is  — 

Jliss  Eldredge  (yrith.  a  merry  laugh).  —  Divine,  Mr 


110 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  PIARVARD. 


Yilliers ;  so  it  is,  —  incedit  regina  ;  is  that  correct  ?  All, 
Mr.  Villiers,  your  admiration  shall  be  a  secret  which 
you  shall  see  I  can  keep,  if  I  am  a  woman.  I  knew 
Kate  Wentworth  for  one  short  summer,  some  years 
ago  ;  and  she  was  the  bravest  and  truest,  as  she  is  now 
the  most  beautiful,  of  girls. 

Yilliers's  confusion  was  too  complete  to  admit  of  any 
reply. 

^*  Tell  me  about  some  of  your  funny  college  scrapes," 
said  the  }  oung  lady,  with  graceful  tact.  "  You  students 
must  have  splendid  times." 

"  I  have  had  very  little  part  in  any  thing  except  the 
regular  routine  of  the  course,"  replied  Yilliers  ;  "  but  I 
witnessed  one  prank,  a  few  evenings  ago,  which  might 
interest  you.  They  are  building  a  new  dormitory  near 
University ;  and  as  the  roof  was  covered  with  a  coating 
of  tar,  there  were  a  good  many  empty  tar-barrels 
scattered  about.  The  Faculty  have  their  meetings 
every  Monday  evening,  in  a  room  in  the  second  story 
of  University  ;  and  there  is  but  one  entrance  for  this 
end  of  the  hall.  Some  of  the  fellows  (of  course,  no  one 
knows  who,  whether  Freshmen  or  Sophomores)  thought 
the  tar-barrels  would  be  best  used  to  make  a  bonfire, 
and  also  conceived  the  plan  of  blockading  the  Faculty 
in  the  hall :  so  a  dozen  or  more  barrels  were  piled  on 
the  steps  in  front  of  the  doorway ;  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  there  was  a  splendid  blaze.  There  was  no 
danger  to  the  building ;  for  it  is  fire-proof.  Immediately 
there  was  a  cry  of  '  Fire  !  fire  !  '  and  everybody  rallied 
at  once,  making  as  much  shouting  as  possible.  The 
faculty  heard  the  uproar,  and  saw  the  blaze,  and  came 
rushing  down  stairs  in  hot  haste ;  but  not  a  soul  of 


AT  HOME. 


Ill 


them  could  get  out,  for  there  was  a  wall  of  fire  a  clozeu 
feet  thick  between  them  and  the  outer  air.  You  could 
just  distinguish  their  figures  flitting  about  in  the  entry ; 
and  the  situation  was  ridiculous  enough  for  them. 
There  was  now  more  shouting  and  cat-calling  than 
before.  This  lasted  six  or  seyen  minutes,  when  the 
janitor,  who  is  on  the  lookout  for  such  things,  came 
with  his  lantern  and  a  long  pole,  and  pushed  the  pile 
of  burning  barrels  off  the  steps,  and  set  the  prisoners 
free." 

"  That  was  certainly  very  funny."  Miss  Eldredge 
did  not  say  that  she  had  heard  the  story  before,  though 
of  course  Adams  had  told  her  all  about  it.  Then  Kate, 
who  had  learned,  through  Sam's  tardy  information,  that 
her  friend  was  present  at  the  ball,  came  up  with  Hunt- 
ingdon, and  the  two  young  ladies  greeted  each  other 
with  all  the  ardor  of  girlish  enthusiasm ;  and,  for  a 
time,  that  part  of  the  hall  was  the  scene  of  some  very 
honest  and  hearty  enjoyment. 

All  this  time,  Sam  had  been  drinking  in  pleasure  as 
only  a  cheery  young  fellow  who  was  acquainted  with 
everybody,  and  a  general  favorite,  could.  It  delighted 
his  mother's  heart  to  witness  his  enjoj-ment,  and  see 
how  very  welcome  he  was  among  young  and  old ;  and 
to  hear  the  hearty  good  wishes  for  his  success  that 
came  from  all  quarters,  as  she  was  greeted  by  one  after 
another  of  those  exclusive  families  who  belonged  strictly 
to  her  social  circle,  but  with  whom  she  seldom  met. 
There  was  nothing  btit  admiration  and  good-Avill  for 
her  two  children ;  and  though  she  took  no  part  in  the 
festivities,  she  was  the  happiest  person  in  the  hall. 

But  while  the  evening  sped  away  so  pleasantly  to 


112 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


our  party  of  friends,  the  accomplislied  Mr.  Huntingdon 
most  unaccountably  made  a  very  grievous  blunder. 
He  had  enjoyed  a  half-hour  with  Miss  Eldredge,  to 
whom  Kate  had  introduced  him,  and  had  presumed 
upon  a  familiarity  that  the  circumstances  hardly  justi- 
fied, and  which  he  would  have  been  the  last  person  in 
the  world  to  assume,  had  he  known  his  fair  companion's 
connections.  As  he  paced  with  her  on  his  arm,  slowly, 
for  the  company  had  deserted  the  supper-ioom,  and 
were  again  thronging  the  floor  of  the  hall,  fragments 
of  a  conversation  might  have  been  heard,  which  quite 
capped  the  climax  of  his  unwarrantable  conduct. 

Huntingdon  (in  his  freest  and  most  familiar  manner). 
—  Do  I  know  Adams  ?  ha,  ha !  I  certainly  do  know 
the  youth.  Sancta  simplieitas  !  He  is  a  perfect  baby ; 
in  his  set  all  the  fellows  call  him  Mary. 

Miss  Eldredge  was  silent  in  astonishment  for  a  time, 
for  she  had  heard  much  of  Huntingdon  from  her 
"Will,"  and  supposed  of  course  that  he  was  Adams's 
friend.  "  Pray,  what  has  he  done  to  be  distinguished 
by  that  particular  name  ?  Has  he  a  little  lamb  ?  "  she 
asked  at  last,  with  the  least  possible  sarcasm. 

Huntingdon.  —  No ;  but  he  is  a  little  lamb,  —  Mary's 
little  lamb  (and  the  gentleman  laughed  very  heartily 
at  his  conceit).  He  is  sweet  on  a  girl  in  Cambridge, 
by  that  name,  and  so  we  rough  him  about  it.  But  then 
he  is  more  of  a  girl  than  a  man.  He  never  smokes,  for 
he  can't,  though  he  has  been  trying  to  learn ;  and  he 
never  drinks  for  the  same  reason.  Wh(-n  we  go  in  to 
Kent's,  we  always  call  for  milk  for  Adams. 

Miss  Eldredge  (coolly).  —  I  should  think  he  might 
be  a  very  nice  young  man. 


AT  HOME. 


113 


Huntingdon.  —  Oh,  he  is  a  nice  young  man.  He 
went  out  rowing  in  our  club  boat  one  evening  last 
month.  You  have  to  slide  down  a  rope  to  the  boat ; 
and  when  the  tide  is  out,  it  is  perhaps  eight  or  ten  feet. 
It  was  about  low  water  when  they  came  in.  The  men 
went  up  hand  over  hand,  except  Adams ;  he  was  so 
breathless  that  he  couldn't  help  himself  at  all;  and 
they  had  to  hoist  him  up  boat  and  all,  as  they  did,  after 
chaffing  him  awhile.  We  have  no  end  of  fun  with 
him. 

Miss  Eldredge.  —  Yes  ?  I  should  think  a  student 
who  did  not  drink  or  smoke,  and  who  was  not  a  big- 
fisted  sort  of  athlete,  might  be  a  phenomenon,  indeed. 

They  passed  on,  although  even  then  Huntingdon  had 
not  perceived  his  error. 

"  What  in  the  world  have  you  been  saying  to  Miss 
Eldredge  about  Adams  ?  "  asked  Sam,  in  alarm,  of  his 
chum,  some  minutes  after  this. 

"  Xothing  in  particular,"  replied  that  gentleman,  a 
little  blankly. 

"  I  should  think  it  was  something  very  '  particular ' 
from  what  I  heard.  Didn't  you  know  that  she  is  from 
Cambridge,  on  a  visit  to  her  uncle,  and  that  everybody 
calls  her  the  nicest  girl  in  Cambridge,  and  that  Adams 
is  awfully  sweet  on  her,  and  she  on  him?  " 

"  The   devil !  "  was  Himtingdon's  rejoinder. 

Sam  laughed  in  spite  of  himself  at  his  blank  look. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me,  chum  ?  "  Huntingdon  ex- 
claimed, half  fiercely. 

"  Well,  you  needn't  devour  me.  I  supposed  every- 
body had  heard  about  Mary  Eldredge  and  Adams :  in 
fact,  you  told  me  yourself.  And  I  did  try  to  catch  your 


114 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


eye.  I  made  faces  at  you,  till  tlie  lady  I  was  with 
wanted  to  know  if  I  had  the  toothache."  At  this  the 
young  man  laughed  again. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  no  laughing  matter,  chimi !  " 

Nor  was  it.  Adams  was,  as  has  been  here  recorded, 
the  wealthiest  man  in  the  class,  and  by  no  means  the 
simpleton  that  he  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  Huntingdon 
and  some  others.  Accustomed  to  the  free  use  of  money 
and  all  that  money  could  bring,  from  his  earliest  youth, 
there  was  to  him  no  temptation  to  indulge  in  the  license 
which  for  the  time  bewildered  so  many  of  his  com- 
panions. Wine  and  tobacco  he  had  always  on  hand  for 
the  use  of  his  friends  ;  but  to  indulge  too  freely  himself 
was  another  matter.  His  perfect  breeding  turned  aside 
the  wit  and  ridicule  which  his  thous^htless  fellow-students 
vied  with  each  other  at  this  time  in  showering  upon  him, 
with  a  calmness  that  deceived  many  as  to  his  character. 
By  degrees  he  was  sure  to  take  his  true  position  among 
the  most  respected  of  his  class.  Since  he  was  entirely 
under  the  control  of  Miss  Eldredge,  who  was  herself 
universally  liked,  enmity  from  this  quarter  would  in- 
deed be  no  laughing  matter  for  the  ambitious  Fresh- 
man ;  and  Miss  Eldredge's  feelings  towards  Mr.  Hunt- 
ingdon were  emphatic. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,"  she  said  to  Kate,  in  answer  to 
the  question  how  she  liked  the  gentleman,  "  but  I  think 
that  Mr.  Huntingdon  is  a  most  thoroughly  disagreeable 
and  conceited  person." 

Kate's  blue  e3^es  opened  to  their  very  widest. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  that  he  is  not  a  friend  of  ^^ours, 
and  I  am  sincerely  sorry  that  he  is  your  brother's  chum ; 
for  I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  any  thing  really  honest 


AT  HOME. 


115 


auci  true  about  liim.  I  don't  often  speak  tliis  way 
about  any  one  ;  but  be  bas  wounded,  I  migbt  almost 
say  insulted  me,  in  a  manner  and  to  a  degree  I  believe 
I  can  never  forget." 

Tbe  festivities  of  tbe  evening  were  drawing  to  a 
close ;  but  tbe  great  event  of  tbe  occasion  was  yet  in 
store  for  Yilliers.  He  bad  lamented  to  Kate  bis  ignor- 
ance of  dancing  early  in  tbe  evening. 

"  You  must  dance  a  contra-dance  witb  me,  Mr.  Yil- 
liers, before  we  go  bome,"  sbe  bad  said.  "  I  sball  not 
let  you  off." 

So.  Yilliers  bad  studied  witb  all  bis  migbt  tbe  figures 
of  tbe  contra-dances ;  and  now  be  claimed  bis  fair 
mistress  for  tbe  Yirginia  Reel,  tbe  last  dance  of  tbe 
evening. 

I  would  like  to  take  a  stand  pretty  well  down  in 
tbe  set,"'  be  said  to  ber ;  and  as  tbey  took  tbeir  places 
in  tbe  long  line,  and  be  felt  a  consciousness  of  bis  own 
awkwardness,  altbougb  in  trutb  be  made  a  very  good 
appearance  indeed,  be  made  a  resolution  to  master  tbis 
accomplisbment  during  tbe  coming  winter,  wbetber  be 
learned  any  Greek  and  matbematics  or  not. 


VIIL 


AFTER  THE  BALL. 

Huntingdon  entered  the  room  at  a  late  hour  the  fol- 
lowing morning.  Kate  alone  had  made  her  appearance, 
and  was  giving  her  plants  their  usual  attention.  The 
young  lady  looked  very  pretty  in  her  simple  toilet,  and 
fresh  beauty,  which  the  excitement  of  the  previous 
evening  had  but  served  to  heighten  ;  at  least,  so  thought 
the  gentleman  as  he  took  her  proffered  hand,  and  bade 
her  good-morning.  He  then  devoted  himself  to  admir- 
ing her  plants,  as  in  duty  bound. 

"  Yes,  they  are  very  nice  ;  but  they  must  require  a 
great  deal  of  time  and  attention,"  he  said. 

"  But  see  how  beautifully  they  repay  me.  I  should 
hardly  know  what  to  do  without  them.  Just  look  at 
this  heliotrope  :  is  it  not  splendid  ?  "  Kate  asked,  point- 
ing to  a  magnificent  plant  thick-set  with  blossoms. 

"It  is,  certainly,  and  I  wish  I  might  have  a  sprig." 
At  this  the  young  lady  broke  off  a  fine  spray,  and  gave 
him. 

"  Thank  you,  very  much :  I  shall  treasure  this." 
And,  with  a  significant  look,  "  You  know  its  meaning, 
of  course  ?  " 

"  No ! "  exclaimed  Kate,  with  the  least  perceptible 
deepening  of  color,  "  I  did  not  know  that  it  meant  any 

116 


AFTEH  THE  BALL. 


117 


thing  in  particular.  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  she  added, 
loolviiig  lip  from  an  ivy-leaf  she  was  dusting. 

-I  —  I  —  believe  I  vrill  let  you  make  that  discoA-ery 
for  yourself/"  Huntingdon  replied,  with  a  bow  and  a 
smile,  which  was  just  a  little  confused.  "  Have  you 
quite  recovered  from  last  night's  fatigue  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  :  have  not  you?  " 

"  Yes,  from  the  fatigue ;  but  I  am  afraid  not  from  the 
ball.  In  truth,  I  feel  it  may  be  a  long  time  before  its 
effects  pass  away." 

'•Indeed!  "  exclaimed  Kate,  in  alarm.  "  You  are  ill  ? 
I  thought  you  seemed  a  little  pale."  With  an  anxious 
glance  at  his  face,  she  added,  Let  me  speak  to 
mamma." 

Please  do  not :  I  am  perfectly  well.  I  meant  that 
I  shall  never  forget  the  ball ;  I  never  enjoyed  an  even- 
ing so  much." 

I  am  sure  we  ought  to  feel  very  much  compli- 
mented," said  Kate,  modestly.  I  was  very  much 
afraid  you  might  not  find  any  partners  who  could  dance 
to  your  satisfaction." 

"  Yes,"  retimied  Huntingdon,  with  his  characteristic 
smile  and  a  winning  enthusiasm,  though  his  manner 
was  Cjuite  too  familiar.  "  Then  let  me  tell  you  some- 
thing. I  had  for  a  partner  the  very  best  dancer  I  have 
ever  seen  in  my  life,  and  she  was  without  exception  the 
most  beautiful  and  one  of  the  most  elegantly  dressed 
ladies  I  have  e^er  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet." 

"  Who  could  it  have  been  I  "  said  Kate  in  honest  sur- 
prise. "What  did  she  wear?  I  wish  you  had  pointed 
her  out  to' me.  Miss  Elclredge  is  very  nice,  but  not 
wonderfully  handsome,  I  think.    Ah,  I  forgot  i\Iiss 


118 


STtJDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Haliburton  ;  she  is  the  great  beauty  of  these  parts :  she 
is  really  a  lovely  girl." 

"  It  was  not  Miss  Haliburton.  I  think  you  could 
produce  the  dress  she  wore ;  and  I  am  quite  sure  the 
flowers  with  which  she  was  adorned  grew  in  this  very 
window,"  was  Huntingdon's  gallant  reply. 

Oh,  sir,"  said  Kate  with  a  mortified  and  indignant 
flush,  for  there  had  been  that  in  the  gentleman's 
manner,  more  than  in  his  words,  which  had  given  cause 
for  displeasure,  "  I  thought  you  were  in  earnest,  though 
I  might  have  known  you  were  not.  Please  do  not 
speak  to  me  again  in  such  a  way.  I  can  but  feel  that 
you  are  making  sport  of  us  here,  and  that  your  enjoy- 
ment is  simply  pretended." 

I  am  sure  that  Huntingdon  would  have  persevered  in 
his  compliments  in  spite  of  the  rebuke  he  had  received, 
and  the  consciousness  that  of  all  times  the  hour  before 
breakfast  is  the  most  inopportune  for  making  love,  had 
not  Yilliers  and  Sam  entered  the  room  at  that  moment. 
He  was  well  pleased  with  the  exhibition  of  spirit  which 
he  had  witnessed.  The  angry  flush  and  gleaming  eyes 
were  quite  to  his  mind.  As  he  had  himself  said,  the 
pleasure  of  pursuit  was  to  him  more  than  the  joy  of  posses- 
sion. 

The  afternoon  and  this  same  room  witnessed  a  tete-a- 
tete  of  quite  a  different  nature,  between  the  young  lady 
and  the  grave  Mr.  Villiers.  Sam,  agreeable  to  his 
iindertaldng,  with  divers  of  his  young  lady  friends,  had 
carried  his  chum  off  to  make  some  calls ;  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  was  doubtless  engaged  with  domestic  matters ; 
and  Villiers,  occupying  awkwardly  enough  an  easy- 
chair  near  the  ample  fireplace,  sat  silently  watching 


AFTER  THE  BALL. 


119 


Kate's  exquisitely  shaped  and  nimble  fingers  as  she 
wrought  at  crochet  or  something  of  the  kind. 

Yilliers  sat  quite  ill  at  ease,  while  moments  that 
ought  to  have  been  blissful  slipped  awaj  one  after 
another.  'Not  a  thought  could  he  summon  worthy  of 
the  occasion,  or  even  of  utterance.  He  was  conscious 
of  acting  the  part  of  a  blockhead.  He  would  have  run 
away  had  he  only  dared ;  but  he  did  not  dare.  Though 
he  had  never  ceased  to  tliink  about  Kate  Wentworth 
since  the  summer  afternoon  when  he  had  looked  down 
into  her  eyes  ;  though  thoughts  of  her  were  sometimes 
woefully  mixed  with  his  Greek  roots  and  mathematical 
problems,  and  her  bright  face  often  looked  out  at  him 
from  the  leaves  of  his  lexicon  in  a  wonderfully  perplex- 
ing way ;  though  her  songs  rang  in  his  ears  all  that 
autumn  so  full  of  varied  and  curious  experiences; 
though  she  was  to  him  the  impersonation  of  all  that 
was  bright,  beautiful,  and  good,  combining  in  her  sweet 
self  the  graces  and  perfections  of  all  the  heroines  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  made  in  the  realm  of  story ;  and 
though  he  knew  that  he  loved  her  with  all  the  power 
of  his  deep,  determined  nature,  —  he  was  afraid  of  her, 
terribly  so,  and  fairly  dreaded  being  left  alone  with  her. 
These  and  other  thoughts  floated  across  his  mind  as 
he  sat  fascinated,  and  watched  her  fingers  weave  their 
spells. 

The  young  lady,  however,  ran  on  pleasantly  from  ojie 
matter  to  another,  without  noticing  her  companion's 
embarrassment  perhaps,  certainly  without  divining  its 
cause,  till,  as  the  early  twilight  deepened,  the  shadow  of 
her  brother's  departure,  and  the  many  weeks  of  almost 
unbroken  quiet  that  were  to  follow,  seemed  to  spread 
itself  over  her,  and  her  fancies  grew  less  bright. 


120  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


"  Ah,  Mr.  Yilliers,"  she  said,  after  one  of  the  pauses, 
"  you  can  see  that  it  is  not  always  so  pleasant  to  live 
here  as  it  was  last  summer.  Take  away  our  boating, 
walks  on  the  beach,  and  scrambles  over  the  rocks,  the 
drives  through  the  woods,  the  city  company,  —  and  we 
lose  all  these  during  the  winter,  —  and  there  is  little 
that  is  attractive  remaining.  Sometimes  I  wish  we 
could  go  away  altogether." 

"  It  was  very  charming  here  last  summer,"  said  Yil- 
liers, rousing  himself ;  "  and  I  am  sure  it  is  delightfully 
pleasant  now.  I  have  not  missed  boating  or  city  com- 
pany ;  and,  for  one,  I  have  been  extremely  gay." 

"  I  wonder  if  this  one  is  making  sport  of  me  too," 
thought  Kate,  as  she  recollected  her  experience  of  the 
morning.  But  a  glance  at  his  honest  face  assured  her 
that  nothing  of  that  nature  was  to  be  feared. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  the  least  curl  of  her  lip: 
"  Mr.  Huntingdon  was  gracious  enough  to  express  a 
similar  approval,  this  morning,  of  the  entertainment  we 
have  afforded.  For  the  moment,  I  almost  thought  that 
it  was  he  speaking." 

"  I  am  sure  I  ought  to  consider  that  very  much  of  a 
compliment,"  said  Yilliers,  plucking  up  his  courage. 
"  Huntingdon  is  the  finest  looking,  most  accomplished, 
and  most  popular  man  in  the  class ;  and  even  a  faint 
and  momentary  approximation  to  his  excellence  is  more 
than  most  of  us  can  aspire  to." 

"  You  two  do  not  seem  to  be  very  dear  friends,"  said 
Kate,  laughing  pleasantly,  not  ill  pleased  perchance  at 
the  answer,  and  the  tone  in  which  it  was  spoken.  "  I 
always  thought  that  all  young  men  in  the  same  class  at 
college  were  the  firmest  of  friends,  willing  to  (^o  any 


AFTEE,  THE  BALL. 


121 


tiling  in  tlie  world  for  one  another,  and  bound  together 
by  the  strongest  ties  imaginable.  I  am  sure,  if  I  were 
there,"  she  continued,  merrily,  "  I  should  love  all  my 
classmates  dearly." 

"  Then  it  is  almost  a  pity  you  are  not." 

"And  not  quite?" 

"  No,"  returned  Villiers,  blushing,  "  '  almost '  I  said. 
I  suppose  there  are  many  strong  attachments  formed 
before  the  four  years  are  ended :  we  have  been  there 
less  than  four  months,  and  you  must  not  expect  too 
much  of  us.  Huntingdon  and  I  may  be  the  firmest 
friends  in  the  world  before  class  day ;  so  that  I  should 
not  be  chargeable  with  the  slightest  fault  in  respect  to 
my  regard  for  him." 

"  Oh,"  returned  the  young  lady,  "  I  did  not  mean  to 
charge  a  fault  now." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  the  name  of  a  song  you  used  to  sing 
last  summer,"  said  Villiers,  after  a  little  time.  "  If  I 
did,  I  would  ask  you  to  sing  it  again." 

"  I  wish  you  did,"  returned  Kate,  at  once  surprised 
and  pleased  ;  "  for  I  should  be  glad  to  sing  it  for  you  : 
but  I  have  so  many  songs.  Can't  you  hum  a  little  of 
it,  or  whistle  it  ?  " 

Villiers's  lips  formed  themselves  to  utter  the  sounds 
he  loved  so  well ;  but,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
stepped  to  the  piano,  and  played  the  first  three  or  four 
notes  of  the  air  with  one  finger.. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  exclaimed  Kate,  brightly.  "  You  like 
that?  it  is  my  favorite  song."  And,  after  a  short  prel- 
ude, she  poured  forth  the  melody  of  her  rich,  sweet 
voice.  Poor  Villiers  was  enchanted.  The  clear,  full 
notes  of  the  song  rose  one  above  another  with  exquisite 


122 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKYAED. 


tenderness  and  inspiring  power.  It  was  a  song  at  once 
of  devotion  and  triumph,  of  adoration  and  passion  ;  and 
so  identified  with  the  young  man's  new-born  love  as  to 
ever  be,  to  him,  the  one  song  above  all  others. 

"  It  is  a  hymn  to  the  Virgin,"  said  Kate,  breaking  the 
stillness  that  followed,  "  sung  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  I  found  it  last  summer,  among  some  of 
mamma's  old  music,  written  out  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
and  have  no  way  of  even  guessing  how  old  it  is,  or  who 
wrote  it.  That  Church  has  a  great  deal  of  very  beauti- 
ful music ;  but  this  happened  to  please  me  more  than 
any  I  had  ever  known,  and  I  sang  it  continually  for  a 
time,  till  Sam  said  it  had  become  tiresome.  Since  then  I 
have  put  it  by  for  special  occasions.  I  give  only  a  very 
faint  rendering ;  for  there  is  a  choral  passage,  which  I 
must  needs  omit.  Given  fully  in  a  church,  I  think  it 
would  be  very  impressive." 

Sitting  thus,  in  the  dusky  glow  of  the  fire,  stirred 
with  the  inspiration  of  her  presence  and  the  contagion 
of  her  cheerful,  sunny  disposition,  Villiers  felt  his  awk- 
ward dread  fast  wearing  away ;  and  with  its  flight  many 
graces  of  thought  and  character  came  coyly  forth  to 
show  the  man  in  his  true  nature.  Surely  he  was  one 
adapted  to  inspire  any  thoughtful  girl  with  respect 
and  regard,  even  if  he  failed  to  awaken  a  more  tender 
srntiment.  He  was  so  profound  and  yet  had  such 
simplicity  of  heart,  so  noble  in  his  thoughts  and  senti- 
ments, so  enthusiastic  and  true  in  his  friendships,  so 
tenderly  thoughtful  for  others  and  forgetful  of  self,  and 
withal  so  invincibly  energetic,  that  he  could  hardly  fail 
to  win  the  friendship  and  admiration  of  even  liis 
thoughtless  and  high-blooded  classmates,  and,  as  he 


AFTER  THE  BALL. 


123 


himself  had  said  half  in  jest,  "  be  bound  to  many  of 
them  by  a  thousand  strong  and  tender  ties,"  before  the 
college  days  were  over. 

Before  this  hour,  long  remembered  by  him,  had  passed, 
and  while  Kate  was  fain  to  sit  gazing  into  the  glowing 
coals,  and  leave  her  work  until  she  had  a  stronger  light, 
he  told,  in  answer  to  her  suggestions,  what  little  there 
was  to  tell  of  his  simple  history.  Without  father  or 
mother  since  his  early  infancy,  he  had  lived  with  an 
uncle,  a  bachelor,  enjoying  the  most  perfect  liberty  in 
every  sense  of  the  word.  As  far  back  as  his  recollec- 
tion extended,  the  library  had  always  possessed  for  him 
a  peculiar  charm.  In  his  secluded  home  he  had  grown 
up  almost  without  a  playmate ;  and  books  had  stood  him 
in  the  stead  both  of  parents  and  friends.  A  short  hour 
daily  with  his  uncle  had  afforded  the  only  instruction 
he  had  received  while  preparing .  for  college,  his  own 
determined  purpose  accomplishing  the  rest.  This  con- 
fidence in  regard  to  his  youth,  brief  as  it  was,  had 

I  never  been  extended  to  any  classmate,  however  inti- 
mate, or  to  any  other  friend.  It  was  a  peculiarity  of 
his,  though  not  to  be  mentioned  as  an  especial  virtue, 
never  to  talk  about  himself ;  and  the  grave  dignity  of 
his  character  was  of  a  nature  which  rendered  curious 
inquiry  almost  impossible.  This  young  man  was  cer- 
tainly a  phenomenal  student ;  but  his  life  at  Cambridge 
is  one  of  the  brightest  and  most  inspiring  recollec- 
tions of  college-days  which  those  of  his  classmates 

I     whose  fortune  it  was  to  be  his  friends  possess. 

May  the  Fates  deal  gently  and  kindly  with  Villiers 
in  his  love  affair,  and  prosper  his  wooing  !  It  has  come 
too  soon  in  his  life,  and  too  early  in  our  story,  but  things 


124  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVAED. 

must  be  told  as  they  are  ;  and  lie  is  no  ideal  character, 
but  only  the  very  noblest  and  manliest  of  students. 
Somehow  and  somewhere  he  had  acquired  a  faith  that 
there  was  something  in  life  more  worthy  of  pursuit 
than  enjoyment,  than  success,  than  happiness ;  and 
that  something  he  called  duty.  Faithful,  independent, 
thorough-going  allegiance  to  duty,  was  the  key-note 
of  his  life  and  character.  When  a  man  has  adopted 
this  belief,  recognized  its  truth,  and  determined  to 
live  in  accordance  with  it,  he  is  every  inch  a  man, 
whatever  his  years,  or  his  ignorance  of  the  world ;  and 
so,  both  for  his  own  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  fair, 
true-hearted  girl  whom  he  loves,  may  he  be  successful 
in  his  passion ! 

All  this  time  the  conversation  between  these  two, 
sitting  in  the  twilight  before  the  cheerful  hearth,  had 
been  uninterrupted,  and  it  certainly  strayed  on  to 
curious  ground;  for  Villiers  was  propounding  some 
theories  in  regard  to  magnetism,  and  the  mysterious 
power  which  one  human  mind  may  sometimes  acquire 
over  another.  As  he  discoursed  on  this  weird  subject, 
citing  one  curious  fact  after  another,  with  his  large  gray 
eyes  piercing  through  the  firelight  at  her,  Kate  became 
conscious,  or  thought  she  did,  of  a  sensation  as  new  as 
the  stories  which  she  was  listening  to  for  the  first  time, 
and  almost  felt  relief  when  Sam,  returning  with  his 
chum,  came  with  merry  talk  and  bustle  into  the  room. 

Sam  had  made  up  his  mind  to  approach  a  very  disa- 
greeable matter  without  further  delay  ;  and  this  was  to 
ask  his  mother  for  more  money.  She  had  asked  him 
how  much  he  would  need  for  the  year's  expenses,  and 
had  at  once  doubled  the  amount  which  he  named,  so 


AFTER  THE  BALL. 


125 


tliat  he  had  commenced  his  college-life  with  what 
seemed  to  be  a  small  fortune  at  his  disposal ;  but  this, 
as  has  been  seen,  had  already  been  dissipated.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  he  owed  a  considerable  amount,  while,  with 
the  exception  of  the  small  purchases  made  in  furnish- 
ing his  room,  not  a  single  legitimate  college-bill  had 
been  paid. 

Sam  had  not  associated  with  the  young  people  who 
lived  around  his  home,  and  who  were  without  excep- 
tion industrious  and  frugal,  without  falling  into  their 
ways  of  thinking.  The  idea  of  a  college-life  had  been 
distasteful  to  him  at  first,  solely  because  he  should 
be  obliged  to  use  his  mother's  money  so  largely,  and 
for  so  long  a  time  ;  and  he  had  argued  the  matter  with 
a  good  deal  of  feeling,  and  protested  that  at  least  he 
would  be  strictly  economical.  Recollecting  all  these 
things,  it  was  very  humiliating  to  ask  for  more  funds  ; 
but  there  seemed  to  be  no  alternative. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  trembled  a  little, 
"there  is  one  thing  I  have  done  that  I  hardly  dare 
think  about,  myself.  I  don't  understand  really  how  it 
came  about.  I  must  have  been  bewitched,  I  think ;  but 
I  have  spent  all  the  money  you  gave  me,  and  more, 
without  paying  for  any  thing.  I  don't  mean  to  have  it 
happen  again.    (In  truth  it  did  not.) 

Mrs.  Wentworth  had  turned  pale  at  his  first  words, 
and  Kate  had  looked  up  in  alarm ;  but  she  forthwith 
indulged  in  a  hearty  laugh  at  Sam's  rueful  appearance 
as  he  made  his  confession,  and  his  mother  was  too  much 
relieved  to  feel  any  thing  but  happiness. 

"  How  much  do  you  owe  ?"  she  asked,  kindly. 

Sam  named  the  amount,  at  which  his  sister's  eyes 


126 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


opened  to  tlieir  widest  extent.  "  I  should  say  that  you 
must  have  been  bewitched  most  decidedly,"  she  said,  a 
little  tartly. 

But  his  mother's  heart  was  filled  with  thankfulness 
and  kindness  only.  "  If  a  little  money  is  all,  your 
troubles  shall  be  soon  ended,"  she  said,  drawing  Sam  to 
her. 

"  It  is  all,  and  bad  enough  too." 

"  All  that  there  is,  is  for  you  two,"  she  continued ; 
"  and  I  want  you  to  spend  as  much  as  you  please : 
only,"  and  her  voice  and  color  deepened,  "  spend  it 
honestly ;  don't  ever  part  with  money  for  any  thing 
you  would  be  ashamed  to  have  us  know  about." 

Sam  felt  a  little  guilty,  but  he  answered,  "  I  think  I 
can  promise  you  that,  mother." 

"  And  you  won't  read  me  any  more  lectures  on  econo- 
my, will  you?"  said  Kate  with  a  merry  laugh. 

Sam  was  silent  and  grave.  At  length  he  said,  "I 
don't  quite  understand  it  all,  myself.  I  know  now,  that 
it  was  very  foolish  and  wrong  to  waste  so  much ;  but 
somehow  at  the  time  every  thing  seemed  to  be  neces- 
sary, and  not  only  that,  but  almost  unavoidable  ;  and, 
until  the  money  was  quite  gone,  it  seemed  as  though 
there  was  a  plenty  left.  I  know,"  he  added,  resolutely, 
"  that  nothing  of  this  kind  will  happen  again." 

"  It  Avould  be  hardly  possible,"  said  his  mother,  "  that 
you  should  get  on  without  mistakes ;  and  I  know  that 
jouT  own  judgment  must  be  your  guide,  and  that  it 
will  in  the  end  be  a  sure  one  ;  but,  oh,  Sam,  do  be  care- 
ful. I  cannot  warn  you  as  I  would  like  to,  because  I 
know  the  world  very  little ;  but  if  you  can  go  on 
through  the  four  years  without  mishap,  I  shall  be  the 
proudest  and  happiest  woman  in  the  land." 


AFTER  THE  BALL. 


127 


"  And  ^vitli  reason  too.  mamma,"  said  Kate,  ^vitli  an 
admirino'  look  at  her  brother. 

I  am  going  to  open  an  account  with  the  banh  in 
Cambridge."  continued  jlrs.  Vrentworth  _:  and  Tvhen- 
OA'er  TOii  Trish  any  money  liereafter.  von  have  only  to 
supply  yoiu^self.  I  wish  yon  to  do  every  thing  that  is 
manly  and  generous  without  stint,  and  to  enjoy  these 
precious  days  of  your  youth  while  they  last.*' 

So  ended  the  much-dreaded  interview. 

As  the  Sunday  evening  twilight  deepened,  and  the 
shadow  of  the  next  morning's  separation  drew  on.  there 
was  no  one.  save  Huntingdon,  who  was  not  sorry  that 
the  recess  was  over.  That  o-entleman  had  enioved  the 
simple  pleasures  of  rural  life  to  rather  more  than  his 
heart's  content.  He  felt  that  he  had  made  two  blun- 
ders, and  this  irritated  him.  He  missed  his  cigars 
sadly,  which  he  had  foregone  for  the  time,  and  his  gay 
companions,  and  the  excitements  attendant  upon  a 
city  life.  Though  Kate  had  apparently  been  not  less 
friendlv,  he  could  see  that  she  was  on  her  o-uard.  and 
that  no  farther  progress  could  be  made  in  that  direction 
for  the  present.  For  one,  he  was  more  than  ready  to  go 
back  to  Cambridge. 

It  could  not  be  otherwise  than  that  the  two  ladies 
shoidd  feel  sorrv  to  have  the  vouno-  men  p-o.  The 
house  would  be  very  didl  without  them  for  many  a 
day:  and  the  daily  round  of  simple  duties,  piu^suits,  and 
pleasures  woidd  needs  for  a  thne  be  le-s  entertaining 
than  of  yore.  Yilliers.  I  fear,  v-ould  fain  have  dallied 
tiway  his  existence  under  the  charm  of  ]^di.-s  Y^ent- 
worth's  smiles,  and  of  this  domestic  harmony  so  new 
and  so  enchanting.    Even  Sam  would  have  been  well 


128 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


pleased  with  a  longer  breathing-spell ;  but  the  dawn  of 
the  following  morning  came  all  too  quickly,  and  after 
a  hurried  breakfast  by  candle-light,  and  a  brisk  drive 
through  the  chill  morning  air  for  the  early  train,  the 
tliree  students  were  whirling  on  toward  Cambridge. 


IX. 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 

The  students  had  all  returned,  and  the  college  ma- 
chinery was  at  once  in  the  most  excellent  running  order. 
The  Seniors  were  all  industrious,  the  Juniors  enjoying 
their  privileges  to  the  fullest  extent,  the  Sophomores 
were  orderly,  the  Freshmen  undisturbed;  and  the  en- 
suing two  months  constituted  perhaps  the  very  best 
working  season  of  the  year. 

"  There  is  going  to  be  a  meeting  of  the  boating 
men  at  Stoughton  28  this  evening,  to  see  about  raising 
money  to  buy  a  class  shell,"  said  Huntingdon  to  Sam, 
as  the  two  sauntered  leisurely  to  their  room  from  the 
post-office.  "  Why  don't  you  go  around,  chum  ?  I 
should  think  you  might  pull  in  the  crew,  or  even  in  the 
Harvard  by  and  by;  you  are  big  enough,"  he  continued 
with  an  admiring  glance  at  Sam's  fine  proportions, 
"and  you  know  all  about  boating,  and  enjoy  it  so  much. 
It  would  be  a  grand  thing  for  you  too,"  he  continued,  in 
his  half-patronizing,  half-confidential  way.  "  You  can't 
think  how  it  helps  a  man  to  be  good  at  some  one  thing, 
either  a  splendid  oar,  or  in  the  Nine,  or  the  Glee  Club, 
or  the  Pierian,  or  a  good  gymnast.  It  is  a  hundred 
times  better  than  the  rank-list.  Anybody  who  has  a 
mind  to  dig  can  stand  well  there."    The  accomplished 

129 


130 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Freshman,  for  he  was  proficient  in  almost  all  these 
matters,  had  given  his  chum  similar  advice  before ; 
but  this  time  he  had  touched  a  responsive  chord. 

Sam's  eyes  sparkled.  "  I  should  like  to  pull  in  a 
crew,  above  all  things,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  wonder  T 
never  thought  about  it  before.  I  am  ever  so  much 
obliged  to  you,  chum,  for  putting  me  in  mind.  I  will 
go  by  all  means." 

"  Be  sure  to  put  my  name  down  on  the  subscription 
paper  for  fifteen  dollars,"  said  Huntingdon.  "  If  I  were 
in  your  place,  I  should  come  down  with  something 
handsome,  say  twenty-five,  or  more  if  you  like."  As 
they  reached  the  entrance  of  College  House,  he  paused 
an  instant,  and  said,  "  Coming  up  ?  The  meeting  is  at 
half-past  seven,  and  it's  about  that  now." 

"  No,"  replied  Sam.  "  It  is  time  for  me  to  be  off  now  • " 
and  he  disappeared  in  the  gloom  in  the  direction  of 
Stoughton. 

Boating  at  Harvard  had  been  for  many  years  a 
feature  of  great  interest  among  the  undergraduates 
and  their  friends ;  but  it  was  at  this  time  by  no  means 
the  perfect  science  it  has  since  become.  No  such  thing 
as  organization  had  been  thought  of  either  by  each 
separate  class  or  by  the  college  as  a  whole.  A  few 
choice  spirits,  ambitious  for  boating  honors,  would  form 
themselves  into  a  boat-club  early  in  the  Freshman  year, 
buy  an  old  lap."  from  one  of  the  upper  classes,  and 
do  as  much  work  as  they  could  in  the  fall.  When  the 
class  began  to  wake  up  to  some  interest  in  boating,  in 
the  spring,  and  wonder  if  there  was  going  to  be  a  crew, 
this  organization  served  in  good  stead. 

In  the  university  boat,  or  the  "  Harvard,"  as  it  was 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


131 


called,  matters  were  even  more  loosely  managed.  Some 
one  man  was  usually  left  over  of  the  last  year  to  be 
captain  and  pick  liis  crew ;  and  because  this  was  often 
so  inefficiently  done,  or  the  selections  made  through 
favoritism,  on  several  occasions  the  anomaly  was  pre- 
sented of  a  university  crew  that  was  inferior  to  a  class 
crew.  There  has  been  a  great  improvement  in  all  these 
things  during  the  past  decade. 

Sam  knew,  of  course,  that  there  was  a  boat-club  ;  but 
so  closely  had  the  new  and  strange  experiences  of  the 
past  three  months  crowded  one  upon  another,  that  he 
had  never  until  this  moment  realized  the  full  signifi 
cance  of  the  fact ;  and  thus  it  was  with  eager  steps  he 
crossed  the  grounds,  and  mounted  the  stairs,  one  flight 
after  another,  to  Stoughton  28.  The  room  is  quite  at 
the  top  of  the  building ;  but  it  is  not  often  that  Fresh 
men  are  so  fortunate  as  to  obtain  one  of  these  attics. 
They  are  quiet,  cosey,  and  comfortable,  and  usually  fall 
to  the  lot  of  Sophomores. 

"  Come  in,"  rang  out  a  voice  in  answer  to  Sam's 
knock;  and,  "Here's  Wentworth."  "How  are  you, 
Sam  ?  "  "  Here,  take  a  pipe  I  "  came  from  half  a  dozen 
sides  at  once.  He  declined  the  pipe  ;  and  surely  there 
was  no  need  of  additional  fumigation,  since,  of  the 
twenty-five  or  thirty  jolly  fellows  who  were  crowded  into 
the  apartment,  nearly  every  one  was  smoking.  Half  a 
dozen  were  stretched  full  length  on  the  two  little  iron 
bedsteads  that  stand  in  one  corner,  and  were  having  a 
merry  time.  As  many  as  could  were  half  sitting  on  the 
big  study-table,  each  easy-chair  held  a  couple,  and  the 
deep  window-seats  were  filled;  others  stood  in  groups  of 
twos  or  threes,  smoking  and  chatting.    The  room  itself 


132 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


was  perhaps  twenty-five  feet  square,  and  very  low 
studded.  In  the  corner  behind  the  door  was  a  pile  of 
base-ball  bats ;  near  by  were  some  heavy  dumb-bells  and 
Indian  clubs;  foils  and  boxing-gloves  adorned  the  little 
space  above  the  mantel ;  there  was  the  oddest  assort- 
ment possible  of  pictures  hung  around  the  wall;  and 
books  were  everywhere  scattered  about  in  the  direst 
confusion.  Ordinarily  there  was  a  fine  assortment  of 
pipes  on  a  little  stand  between  the  windows ;  but  at 
present  they  were  all  in  use.  Add  to  all  this  volumes 
of  tobacco-smoke  almost  obscuring  the  gas  and  the 
blazing  fire,  and  you  have  Stoughton  28,  as  it  was  on 
this  occasion. 

The  room  was  occupied  by  Hawes  and  Smith.  The 
hour  appointed  for  the  meeting  had  passed ;  and  as 
arrivals  had  ceased,  and  it  was  plain  that  there  would 
be  no  more  in  attendance,  Lyman  rapped  briskly  on 
the  table.  Immediately  the  boisterous  merriment  sub- 
sided, the  groups  broke  up,  the  Freshmen  assumed  more 
orderly  positions,  and  in  a  moment  silence  reigned. 

L3^man,  standing  at  the  table,  began,  "  Classmates, 
this  meeting  has  been  called  at  the  request  of  a  good 
many  members  of  the  class ;  and,"  looking  around,  "  I 
presume  some  one,  better  acquainted  with  the  subject 
matter  to  come  before  it  than  I  am  will  explain  its  pur- 
pose." 

There  was  a  dubious  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  fol- 
lowed by  whispered  expostulations  from  a  group  loun- 
ging on  one  of  the  beds ;  and  presently  a  fellow  whom 
we  have  seen  before  came  forward,  pipe  in  mouth. 

"  Mr.  Chairman  !  " 

Lyman,  —  Mr.  Smith,  gentlemen. 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


133 


Smith,  —  What  I  want  to  say  is  (puff),  that  we 
have  called  this  meeting  to  take  some  action  about 
raising  money  to  buy  a  class  shell.  (Applause,  and  a 
succession  of  puffs  from  Smith.) 

Lyman.  —  Excuse  me,  Smith,  but  I  would  like  to 
remind  the  fellows  that  it  is  against  the  regulations,  to 
hold  a  class  meeting  without  permission  from  the  Presi- 
dent. I  tried  to  get  permission  for  this  occasion,  but 
Prex.  wouldn't  give  it ;  said  he  "hadn't  any  authority," 
you  know.  (Laughter  and  applause.)  If  we  make  a 
noise  so  that  that  everlasting  Bogey  (the  proctor  in 
charge  of  the  entry)  hears  it,  and  discovers  what  we  are 
about,  we  shall  get  publics,  if  nothing  worse.  That  is 
all,  Smith. 

Smith.  —  Of  course  it  is  customary  to  have  a  class 
boat,  and  we  must  have  one  ;  and  there  is  none  too 
much  time  to  order  it  in.  I  believe  they  generally 
(puff)  vote  (puff)  that  each  man  in  the  class  shall  pay 
a  certain  amount  (puff,  puff),  say  three  dollars  (a 
succession  of  puffs).  McKay  will  build  us  a  shell  for 
three  hundred  dollars  (puff,  puff),  and  have  it  ready  by 
the  time  the  river  is  open ;  and  I  make  a  motion  that 
we  vote  to  assess  the  class  three  dollars  on  each  man. 

So  saying  he  retired  to  the  bed  amid  subdued  ap- 
plause. 

Smith,  unless  you  touched  him  on  boating,  was  not 
much  of  an  orator.  He  pulled  the  bow  oar  in  the  club 
boat,  and  promised  to  hold  the  same  position  in  the 
crew  next  spring;  yes,  and  in  the  "  Harvard "  too,  by  and 
by.  He  was  rather  short,  light-haired,  and  muscular, 
and  a  great  favorite.  His  popularity  was  destined  to 
increase ;  for  he  was  to  show  himself  one  of  the  best 


134 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


bow  oars  that  the  college  ever  turned  out.  He  handled 
an  oar  much  better  than  a  lexicon,  and  did  the  "  dips  " 
and  "  half-arms  "  more  skilfully  than  the  English-into- 
Greek  exercise.  In  truth,  it  is  uncommon  for  a  boating 
man  to  be  much  of  a  dig. 

After  a  silence,  Lyman  looked  inquiringly  around. 

"  Get  up  and  say,  something,  Tom,"  said  Smith, 
nudging  his  neighbor  on  the  bed ;  and  reluctantl}^  for 
speech-making  was  the  very  least  of  his  accomplish- 
ments, Tom  Hawes  got  on  to  his  feet,  and  faced  the 
company. 

"  I've  got  a  letter  in  my  pocket  from  a  Yale  Fresh- 
man, a  friend  of  mine.  He  says  they  expect  a  chal- 
lenge from  us  for  a  race  next  summer;  and  he  says 
(reading),  '  We  are  confident  of  being  able  to  turn  out 
a  strong  crew,  and  hope  you  will  not  fail  to  invite  us 
to  meet  you  on  Quinsigamond  in  July.'  (Applause.) 
You  know,  fellows,  how  hard  it  is  to  get  those  Yale 
men  to  come  to  the  scratch ;  but  this  fellow  is  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  I  know  what  he  says  can  be  depended  on. 
Of  course  we  can't  do  any  thing  without  a  shell ;  and 
the  only  way  that  I  see  is  to  raise  the  money,  and  buy 
one ;  and  so  I  second  Mr.  Smith's  motion."  With  this, 
Tom  retired,  very  red  in  the  face,  and  very  warm,  to  the 
couch,  where  he  was  received  with  subdued  enthu- 
siasm. 

Lyman  waited  a  few  minutes  for  a  further  expression 
of  the  sense  of  the  meeting ;  then,  as  no  one  came  for- 
ward, began,  "  If  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said,  I 
will  put  the  motion  to  vote."  This  brought  a  shaggy- 
headed  fellow  on  to  his  feet  in  a  trice. 

"  Mr.  Chairman." 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


135 


Lyman.  —  Mr.  Howard,  gentlemen. 

Hoiuard.  —  I  liave  nothing  to  say,  Mr.  Chairman 
(Howard  was  one  of  the  readiest  speakers  in  the  class, 
with  the  knack  of  making  the  most  trifling  matters 
appear  to  be  of  consequence,),  —  I  have  nothing  to 
urge  agamst  the  proposition  of  procuring  a  class  boat. 
Personally  my  feelings  are  wholly  in  favor  of  what  has 
been  said.  I  am  quite  ready  to  pay  three,  or  five,  or 
even  ten  dollars,  if  needs  be  "  — 

Longstreet  (getting  briskly  on  to  his  feet).  —  Well, 
we'll  call  it  ten  dollars,  Mr.  Chairman.  Just  pat  Mr. 
Howard  down  for  ten  dollars,  and,  Howard,  never  mind 
the  speech. 

At  this  interruption  there  was  very  general  mirth. 

"  But  I  do  object,"  continued  Howard  with  unruffled 
gravity,  "  object  most  emphatically  to  the  underhanded 
method  by  which  we  propose  to  secure  the  money. 
There  are  present  here  about  thirty  in  all,  and  the 
class  numbers  one  hundred  and  twenty.  Now,  I  say, 
Mr.  Chairman,  we  have  no  right''  — 

Lyman,  —  Excuse  me,  Howard :  not  quite  so  loud, 
if  you  please.    I'm  terribly  afraid  of  publics. 

"  I  say  we  have  no  right,"  Howard  continued,  in  a 
hoarse  whisper,  "  to  vote  away  class  money,  or  to  bind 
the  class  by  a  vote,  without  a  full  class  meeting 
(applause  from  one  corner  of  the  room),  or  at  least 
witliout  a  general  invitation  to  the  entire  class  to  attend 
one.  I  am  emphatically  opposed  to  any  such  proceed- 
ing as  that  proposed.  Let  us  have  a  boat  by  all  means, 
but  first  let  us  at  least  do  our  best  to  have  a  meeting 
attended  by  the  class  at  large.  A  vote  by  so  small  a 
number  would  not  bind  anybody,  especially  a  vote  cast 
by  interested  parties." 


136 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


It  was  very  evident,  now  that  there  was  opposition 
who  were  the  boating-men  and  their  friends.  Half  a 
dozen  rose  to  the  floor  at  once ;  and  the  cry  of  Mr. 
Chairman  !  "  was  heard  on  all  sides. 

Lyman.  —  Mr.  Adams  !  Gentlemen,  Adams  has  the 
floor. 

Adams  (standing  still  and  looking  quietly  around).  — 
I  would  like  to  say,  in  answer  to  the  last  gentleman's 
remarks  (cries  of  "  Hear !  hear ! "  and  "  Go  in,  Mary, 
don't  be  bashful!"),  that  I've  come  up  here  to  this  sky- 
parlor  to  attend  this  meeting,  and  I  don't  want  to  have 
to  come  again  for  such  a  purpose  when  all  the  necessary 
business  can  just  as  well  be  transacted  now.  (Ap- 
plause.) I  don't  believe  you  could  get  any  more 
together  than  there  are  here  now,  —  certainly  not  if  the 
object  of  the  meeting  was  known.  Of  course  the  vote 
would  not  bind  anybody ;  and  if  there  is  any  man  in 
the  class  who  won't  give  three  dollars  toward  a  class 
boat,  or  who  can't  afford  to,  let  him  say  so,  when  asked, 
and  there  will  be  plenty  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 

"  Good  for  you,  Mary!"  said  Longstreet. 

"  For  my  part,"  continued  Adams,  ''I  can't  pull " — 

"  Can't  shin  a  rope,  can  you?"  said  Lewis,  with  his 
mighty  laugh,  in  which  all  joined. 

"  But  I  sincerely  wish  I  could ;  if  some  one  will  draw 
up-  a  paper,  I  will  put  my  name  down  for  thirty  dollars, 
and  I  am  good  for  as  much  more,  if  necessary." 

There  was  uproarious  applause  at  this,  on  the  part  of 
the  boating-men  and  their  friends. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Sam,  rising. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth,  gentlemen." 

Immediately  there  was  silence. 


STOUGHTON  TWEXTY-EIGHT. 


137 


"I  only  wished  to  say,"  continued  Sam  modestly 
"  that,  as  I  take  the  deepest  interest  in  eyeiy  thing  that 
relates  to  boating,  I  hope  the  motion  will  be  yoted  on 
and  carried;  and  I  shall  be  pleased  to  subscribe  twenty- 
fiye  dollars  toward  the  new  boat,  and  my  chum  wanted 
me  to  put  his  name  down  for  fifteen." 

At  this  there  was  great  glee  manifested  by  the  boating 
fraternity;  and  the  motion  was  put  and  carried  without 
delay.  After  some  further  discussion,  it  was  yoted  to 
appoint  a  committee  of  three  to  collect  the  funds,  and 
order  the  new  shell ;  and  Sam  was  at  once  surprised  and 
pleased  to  find  himself  associated  with  Smith  and  Lewis 
in  the  discharge  of  its  duties.  A  subscription  paper 
was  drawn  up  on  the  spot,  and  more  than  half  the 
necessary  amount  secured  at  once.  The  meeting  then 
broke  up. 

"  I  think  I  would  like  to  pull  in  the  crew,"  Sam  said 
to  Smith,  some  days  later,  as  he  handed  that  gentleman 
the  money  which  he  had  collected  from  that  part  of  the 
class  which  it  had  been  his  duty  to  canyass.  I  did 
not  know  any  thing  about  the  boat-club,  or  I  should 
haye  joined  last  fall.  Boating  is  a  sport  that  I  particu- 
larly delicrht  in." 

Smith  was  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  the  request, 
or  the  confident  tone  in  which  it  was  made  :  probably  a 
score  of  his  classmates  had  suggested  to  him  that  they 
intended  to  pull  in  his  crew,  as  though  an  oar  in  a  class 
boat  was  to  be  had  for  the  asking. 

"Eyer  pulled  any,  Wentworth?"  he  asked,  inno- 
cently. 

"  I  belieye  I  can  handle  a  boat  of  any  kind  if  I  can 
do  any  thing,"  returned  Sam,  warmly. 


138 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  You  had  better  go  to  the  gymnasium  and  work 
regularly  there ;  and  in  the  spring,  if  you  are  the  best 
man,  you  shall  have  a  place.  There  are  a  good  many 
who  want  to  pull,  and  who  are  working  hard,  but  the 
more  the  merrier;  and,"  he  continued,  seeing  Sam's 
rather  blank  look,  "there  will  be  a  second  crew,  you 
know,  and  you  can  get  a  chance  in  that  if  not  in  the 
first." 

"  I  will  go  to  the  gymnasium,  of  course,  if  you  say 
so,"  returned  Sam,  a  little  crestfallen;  "but  I  believe  I 
am  strong  enough  in  a  boat  without  that." 

"  Not  so  strong  but  that  you  can  work  up  a  good 
deal,"  Smith  replied  as  they  parted. 

Smith  had  made  the  same  reply  to  all  the  volunteers ; 
and,  in  many  cases,  it  had  served  to  dampen  their  ardor 
most  effectually.  This  plan  of  regular  winter  work  in 
the  gymnasium,  for  the  crew,  was  an  idea  of  Tom 
Hawes's,  and  was  considered  to  be  quite  superfluous  by 
boating-men  generally;  even  the  "  Harvard,"  in  spite  of 
Wilkinson's  persistent  endeavors,  contenting  themselves 
with  the  thought  that  a  few  weeks'  training  in  the 
spring  would  suffice.  But  Sam  was  too  thoroughly  in 
earnest  to  be  turned  aside.  The  more  he  thought 
about  it,  the  more  determined  he  was  to  pull  an  oar  in 
his  class  boat ;  for  that  he  could  do  this  with  credit  to 
himself  and  the  class,  he  felt  certain.  So  he  went  regu- 
larly to  the  gymnasium,  where  at  a  certain  hour  of  the 
day  Hawes  and  Smith  and  Lewis  were  hard  at  work, 
coaching  and  criticising  half  a  score  of  aspirants  for  a 
place  in  the  boat.  Hither  Villiers,  who  entered  at  once 
into  the  spirit  of  Sam's  enthusiasm,  was  wont  to  accom- 
pan}^  him,  declaring  that  he  needed  some  honest  work 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


139 


of  some  kind  himself;  and,  for  an  hour  or  two  each 
day,  these  young  fellows  worked  with  a  determination 
worthy  of  the  cause.  They  pulled  weights,  swung 
Indian  clubs,  put  up  the  dumb-bells,  learned  the  parallel 
bars,  the  half-arms,  and  the  dips;  and  Sam  found  that 
there  was  a  relish  to  all  this,  and  an  enjoyment  in  the 
very  exertions,  beyond  what  would  have  seemed  possi- 
ble. As  he  was  nearl}^  twenty-one  at  this  time,  was 
possessed  of  a  splendid  constitution  and  a  manly  frame, 
and  had  always  lived  much. out  of  doors,  his  muscular 
strength  developed  with  astonishing  rapidity;  and, 
before  the  season's  work  in  the  gymnasium  was  fairly 
ended,  he  equalled  even  Lewis  in  strength,  and  Smith 
in  activity. 

It  was  most  interesting,  during  all  this  time,  to  watch 
the  conduct  of  Smith  and  Hawes.  They  seemed  always 
to  be  at  the  gymnasium  looking  after  the  men,  so  long 
as  one  of  them  remained.  Besides  doing  more  than 
their  own  share  of  work  at  the  weights  and  on  the 
bars,  they  coached  and  discussed  every  one  of  the 
candidates  with  unfailing  diligence.  You  could  see 
them  putting  their  heads  together,  and  winking  and 
exchanging  significant  glances,  when  one  of  their  men 
made  a  good  show ;  and  Tom  Hawes's  glum  face  would 
light  up  in  a  wonderful  way,  as  he  perceived  the  prog- 
ress his  plans  were  making.  No  infatuated  turfman 
ever  watched  the  trainins^  of  a  favorite  trotter  with  a 
closer  vigilance  or  a  keener  satisfaction. 

What  I  would  like  to  know,"  said  Smith,  as  the 
pair  stood  apart,  watching  Sam's  graceful  and  vigorous 
exercise  with  the  clubs,  "is  whether  Wentworth  is 
going  to  be  the  man  he  promises."    Smith  had  pro- 


140 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


pounded  this  question  to  his  friend  a  score  of  times 
already.  "  He  is  strong  enough,  Tom,  and  has  wind, 
and  all  that ;  but  the  great  question  is,  can  we  teach 
him  to  pull  ?  " 

"  Ssijs  he's  been  used  to  boats  all  his  life,"  was  Tom's 
rejoinder. 

"  Yes.  I  know  just  what  that  amounts  to,  —  pulling 
cross-handed  in  a  dory.  For  my  part,  I  would  rather 
have  a  man  who  never  saw  a  boat  in  his  life,  than  one 
of  these  fellows  who  thinks  he  knows  all  about  it,  and 
is  ignorant  of  the  first  principles." 

"  He's  quick  as  a  cat,  and  willing  to  be  told ;  and  I 
believe  he's  a  prize." 

"  Well,  I  hope  so ;  if  he  only  turns  out  half  as  well 
as  he  promises,  I  won't  ask  for  a  better  crew  than  ours 
will  be.  The  Sophs,  would  be  strong,  only  their  two 
best  men  are  in  the  Harvard ;  and,  as  for  the  Juniors, 
they  are  going  to  travel  altogether  too  much  on  their 
dignity.  But  I  say,  Tom,"  as  a  man  of  splendid  devel- 
opment came  out  of  one  of  the  dressing-rooms,  and 
picked  up  a  heavy  dumb-bell,  "  know  who  that  fellow 
is?" 

"  No." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  his  name  ;  but  they  say  he  has 
pulled  at  Oxford,  and  was  a  crack  oar,  and  that  he  is 
going  to  pull  stroke  in  the  scientific  crew." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  "  the  more  there  are  of  them,  the 
less  chance  of  our  coming  in  at  the  tail  end."  Just 
then  the  bell  rung ;  and  he  started  off  on  the  run,  to 
save  a  tardy-mark  at  recitation. 

The  rest  of  the  season  was  not  all  study  or  gymna- 
sium work.    For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  Sam  went  to 


STOUGHTON  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


141 


the  opera,  and  was  fairly  captivated  by  this  new  pleas- 
ure. Yilliers  was  soon  his  constant  companion;  and 
the  love  of  music  was  one  more  tie  binding  them 
together. 

Through  Adams  and  Miss  Eldredge,  Sam  had  received 
a  card  to  the  Lyceum  Hall  assemblies,  those  gatherings 
of  the  elite  of  Cambridge.  So,  arrayed  in  faultless 
apparel,  he  went  to  the  first  one  ;  though  not  without 
some  fear  and  trembling.  To  his  infinite  disgust,  his 
worst  apprehensions  were  realized ;  and  he  found  him- 
self as  entirely  ignorant  as  he  could  possibly  be  of  the 
art  of  dancing  as  practised  there.  Miss  Eldredge  was 
more  than  polite  to  him,  and  introduced  him  to  a  score 
of  pretty  girls ;  but  he  felt  his  discomfiture  so  keenly 
that  he  retired  from  the  hall  before  the  evening  was 
half  over.  "  Why  don't  you  go  to  a  dancing-school  ?  " 
Huntingdon  said  to  him,  on  his  return.  "  They  will 
have  the  assemblies  just  the  same,  another  year ;  and 
you  won't  be  a  Freshman  then,  either.  What  kind  of 
a  figure  can  a  man  cut  in  society,  who  doesn't  know  the 
germ  an  ?  If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  lose  no 
time." 

Chancing  to  mention  the  plan  to  Villiers,  to  his  sur- 
prise, that  gentleman,  with  more  confusion  than  he  had 
ever  exhibited  before,  said  that  he  knew  of  a  very  nice 
place,  select  and  all  right ;  in  fact,  he  had  been  attend- 
ing twice  a  week,  for  some  time.  Before  the  winter 
ended,  these  two  young  fellows  were  as  proficient  in 
the  german  as  Mr.  Huntingdon  himself. 

As  the  weeks  sped  away,  our  young  man  was  becom 
ing  much  better  acquainted  with  his  classmates  gen 
erally,  and  was  learning  that  there  was  a  large  proportion 


142 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


of  quiet,  earnest,  industrious  men,  who  did  not  consider 
it  necessary  to  waste  their  substance  in  riotous  living, 
simply  because  they  had  the  unlimited  control  of  a 
certain  amount  of  money.  He  began  to  doubt,  some- 
times, if  his  chum's  associates,  who  had  at  first  seemed 
so  worthy  of  imitation  in  every  way,  were  really  the 
most  influential  men  in  the  college,  or  were  really  very 
desirable  acquaintances,  even  though  they  seemed  to  be 
the  most  prominent. 

Perhaps,  next  to  his  intimacy  with  Villiers,  Sam's 
friendship  with  Will  Adams  came  to  be  the  strongest, 
as  well  as  the  pleasantest.  It  might  have  been  that  his 
natural  quickness  at  discernment  gave  him  an  insight 
into  this  young  man's  character,  beyond  that  of  the  fel- 
lows who  were  his  associates  and  friends.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  analyze  the  subtle  forces  that  draw  two  young 
men  together  and  make  them  friends ;  but  friends  these 
two  were  :  and  Sam,  not  quite  understanding  Adams's 
cool  indifference  at  the  constant  attacks  of  their  com- 
panions, often  took  arms  in  his  defence.  There  was  one 
incident,  however,  that  seemed  too  good  to  be  kept  to 
himself;  and  he  told  it  with  a  great  deal  of  glee  to 
Hawes  and  Lewis  :  — 

"  I  called  in  to  see  Adams  this  morning,  after  recita- 
tion, and  found  the  youth  stretched  full  length  on 
his  lounge,  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and  in  a  cold  sweat. 
'  Good  gracious  ! '  said  I ;  '  what's  the  matter  ?  Are 
you  sick  ? ' 

"'Oh,  no,'  he  replied,  feebly ;  'it's  nothing  in  particu- 
lar.   I've  been  smoking  :  that  is  all.' 

"  '  Aren't  you  used  to  it  ?  '  I  asked.  He  looked  so 
miserable  that  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  laugh  at  him. 


STOUGHTOX  T^E^'TY-EIGHT. 


143 


"  '  Oh,  yes.  I've  smoked  eyeiy  dtiy,  ever  since  I've 
been  liere  ;  and  I  usually  get  on  with,  a  Manilla  very 
well :  but  about  ten  days  ago  I  bought  a  pipe  ; '  and  he 
produced  the  most  elegant  meerschaum  you  ever  saw. 
'  I  am  coloring  it :  and  I  have  to  smoke  such  deuced 
strong  tobacco  that  it  uses  me  up  for  a  couple  of  hours 
afterwards.' 

"  I  suggested  that,  under  these  circumstances,  I 
should  be  inclined  to  let  the  pipe  slide  ;  but  I  found 
that  I  had  touched  a  tender  point.  •  Sam."  said  he, 
rousing  himself,  •  I  came  to  college  with  the  determina- 
tion of  learning  to  smoke ;  and  I  mean  to  color  that 
pipe,  if  I  am  sick  all  the  rest  of  the  day.*  It  was  the 
clearest  case  of  infatuation  I  ever  saw :  and  I  said  noth- 
ing more." 

Both  Hawes  and  Lewis  thought  that  was  a  pretty 
good  story :  but  the  laugh  grew  louder,  as  Hawes,  with 
a  very  knowing  look,  drew  from  his  pocket  an  elegant 
pipe,  and  exhibited  it.  He  had  to  gi^-e  it  up,  after 
all ;  for  he  handed  it  to  me  tliis  morning,  and  asked  me 
if  I  didn't  want  to  smoke  it  awhile."'  Without  delay, 
the  story  went  the  rounds.  Soon  after  this,  Adams  had 
his  revenge ;  and  it  happened  in  this  wise  :  — 

"  There,"  said  Huntingdon,  coming  into  the  room  one 
snowy  afternoon,  and  placing  a  small  package  on  the 
table,  I"m  tired  of  cigars  ;  there's  nothing  like  a  good 
Bweet  pipe,  after  all."  And  cutting  the  strings,  and  un- 
folding the  paper,  he  drew  forth  a  pipe,  fitted  in  a  stem, 
and,  opening  the  box  of  Green  Seal,"  crowded  the 
bowl  with  the  fragrant  weed,  and  sat  down  to  a  smoke 
which  he  apparently  enjoyed  with  the  keenest  relish. 

By  degrees,  smoking  had  come  to  possess  a  strange 


144 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAHVARD. 


fascination  for  Sam;  and  he  often  thought  he  would 
like  to  try  it  for  himself,  and  see  if  it  were  as  nice  as  it 
seemed. 

"  I  suppose  any  one  is  always  sick,  chum,  when  he 
first  begins  to  smoke,"  he  said  at  length,  his  eyes  follow- 
ing the  curling  wreaths. 

"  Not  necessarily:  I  never  was,  so  far  as  I  remember," 
Huntingdon  replied;  and  with  a  half-quizzing  glance 
added,  "  Why  don't  you  try  it,  chum  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  will,  if  you  will  lend  me." 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure  :  you  lose  half  the  en- 
joyment of  life  not  smoking."  And  Huntingdon  knocked 
out  the  ashes,  crammed  the  bowl  with  "  Green  Seal," 
passed  it  to  Sam,  and  then  lighted  a  bit  of  paper  at  the 
grate,  and  gave  him  a  fair  start.  "  Bravo,  chum  !  we'll 
have  you  a  man  yet.  Don't  smoke  too  fast :  you'll  burn 
it  if  you  do  ;  "  and  he  went  back  to  his  book. 

It  was  by  this  time  quite  dark.  The  snow  fell  brisldy 
against  the  panes,  and  the  wind  whistled  chill  with- 
out. Sam  lay  back  in  his  easy-chair,  his  feet  on  the 
fender,  gazing  into  the  glowing  grate.  The  sensation 
was  new,  and  it  was  delicious :  it  seemed  to  soothe  his 
senses,  and  make  him  wish  to  close  his  eyes  and  dream ; 
the  fire  took  on  a  new  charm  as  he  gazed  at  it  through 
the  curling  smoke  ;  and  how  gracefully  the  wreaths  rose 
one  above  another  to  the  ceiling ! 

"  WJiat  a  fool  I  have  been  to  lose  all  this  comfort  so 
long !  he  thought.  "  I  will  go  over  to  Wiley's,  and 
buy  a  pipe  this  very  night." 

Huntingdon  pu  tting  on  his  great-coat  and  hat  aroused 
him  from  his  revery ;  and  the  smoke  refusing  to  come, 
showed  that  the  tobacco  was  burned  out. 


STOUGHTOX  TWENTY-EIGHT. 


145 


"  Good  for  you,  cliiim  !  Put  the  pipe  in  tlie  case, 
please.  I  want  to  stop  at  the  office  and  the  bookstore, 
and  I  won't  wait  for  you ;  it's  tea-time  now ;  "  and  he 
hurried  out. 

Sam  felt  no  disposition  to  follow ;  something  admon- 
ished him  that  he  would  do  well  to  remain  where  he 
was  ;  his  head  did  not  feel  quite  right,  and  the  objects 
in  the  room  seemed  to  join  in  a  confused  and  confusing 
dance. 

"  This  is  worse  than  the  champagne,"  he  said,  talking 
perhaps  to  keep  up  courage  as  he  rose  from  his  chair, 
but  he  was  too  glad  to  sit  down  there  again  at  once. 

After  a  moment,  the  sensation  of  suffocation  being 
unendurable,  he  made  another  effort,  and,  with  due 
allowance  for  the  "  unstable  equilibrium,"  succeeded  in 
reaching  and  throwing  open  the  window.  How  refresh- 
ing was  the  chill  air,  and  the  snow  that  fell  on  his  face 
and  forehead  I  but  in  a  few  seconds  he  was  only  too  glad 
to  recline  on  the  lounge.  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  try 
this  experiment  again ;  my  ciuriosity  is  perfectly  satis- 
fied ;  and  I  know  just  how  much  fun  there  is  in  smok- 
ing. I  can't  truly  say  that  I  am  hungry ;  but  I  may  as 
well  try  to  go  to  tea,  for  I  wouldn't  have  chum  know 
of  this  for  the  world ;  "  and  he  succeeded  in  reacliing 
the  street  and  the  table. 

"  Hallo,  Went !  "  shouted  Lewis,  as  he  entered  the 
room.  "  You  come  late  to  the  feast.  Why,  Avhat  is  the 
matter  with  the  man?  you  are  as  white  as  a  sheet. 
Seen  a  ghost  on  the  way  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Sam,  with  a  faint  smile,  as  he  seated  him- 
self at  the  table,  "  there's  nothing  in  particular  the 
matter.    I  don't  feel  just  right.  —  No,  thank  you,"  he 


146 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


said  to  the  maid  as  she  passed  him  some  biscuit  and 
butter :  "  give  me  a  cup  of  tea,  please." 

"Why,  Sam,"  said  Hawes,  with  an  anxious  face, 
"  you  are  really  sick  !  I'm  'ever  so  sorry." 

"No,  confound  it!  I  smoked  chum's  pipe  full  of 
strong  tobacco,  and  it  has  made  me  just  a  little  dizzy: 
it  will  be  all  right  presently ;  "  and  he  tried  hard  to 
swallow  some  tea. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  said  Lewis.  "  Here's  Wentworth  been 
smoking.  Just  look  at  the  wretched  man,  and  see  how 
sick  it  has  made  him,"  and  the  table  roared  at  him. 
There  was  no  more  sympathy  from  any  one  now.  The 
smokers  laughed  at  him ;  and  those  who  did  not  smoke 
laughed  still  more. 

"  I  say,  Sam,"  called  out  Adams  from  the  other  end 
of  the  table,  "  hadn't  you  better  take  my  pipe,  and  finish 
coloring  it?  I'm  afraid  Tom's  tobacco  isn't  strong 
enough."  Even  the  maid  joined  in  the  laugh  at  his 
expense. 

"  Never  smoked  any  before  ?  "  said  Tom,  presently, 
with  a  grin. 

"  No,"  replied  Sam,  in  a  disgusted  tone. 

"  Well,  don't  give  it  up  discouraged.  You  ought  to 
have  tried  it  just  after  supper  instead  of  just  before.  It 
makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world.  Why,  if  I  take  a 
strong  pipe  full  just  before  a  meal,  it  sometimes  makes 
me  dizzy.  Try  it  again  to-morrow  after  dinner,  and 
you'll  come  to  it  all  right."    And  he  did. 


X. 


THE  EIYEE. 

What  a  dreary,  tedious  time  is  the  first  spring  in 
Cambridge,  to  the  enthusiastic  Freshmen  who  are  count- 
ing the  hours  that  must  elapse  before  they  can  hiunch 
their  boat,  bid  adieu  to  the  gymnasium,  and  begin  tlieir 
season's  T^-ork  on  the  river  I  AVIiat  a  vision  recollection 
calls  up  of  falling  rain,  melting  snovr,  and  drizzling  mist, 
with  naked  trees  and  building^s  standiuGT  out  like  half- 
drowned  spectres  through  the  fog,  while  underfoot  the 
snow  is  slosh,  which  is  speedily  transformed  to  mud,  as 
the  ground  opens,  till  the  streets  are  well-nigh  impassa- 
ble. Xo  water  ever  runs  off  the  colleo-e  aTounds  :  the 
i  place  is  too  level  for  that.  It  is  not  minded  in  later 
years,  for  one  grows  used  to  it ;  but  it  is  a  noteworthy 
Freshman  experience. 

At  length  the  ice  on  the  river  broke  up.  and  floated 
off  to  sea ;  the  Avinds  blew  softer,  the  mud  was  no 
longer  impassable ;  and  Smith  got  his  candidates  together, 
and  after  several  trials  picked  his  crew.  Sam  had 
secured  the  long-dreamed-of  honor.  —  a  place  in  the 
class  boat ;  and  now  all  bade  farewell  to  study  and 
careful  preparation  for  recitations  and  examinations  ; 
for  the  boat  was  the  absorbmg  passion  of  the  next  fouj 
months. 

147 


148  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


Tlie  land  slopes  to  the  south  from  the  colleges  to.  the 
river ;  and  a  brisk  walk  of  five  minutes  brings  one  to 
the  boat-houses.  Seen  from  a  distance,  rising  on  piles 
out  of  the  river-mud,  they  looked  like  so  many  huge 
and  uncouth  marsh-fowl ;  and  a  nearer  approach  dis- 
covered them  to  be  mere  sheds  built  of  rough  boards, 
with  many  a  chink  and  cranny  in  floor,  roof,  and  wall ; 
but  they  served  to  cover  the  boats,  and  protect  them 
from  thieves  or  from  wanton  destruction.  Many  a 
student  has  felt  an  interest  in  these  same  rickety  sheds 
unsurpassed  in  intensity  by  any  pleasure  of  his  youth 
or  pursuit  of  his  later  years. 

The  river,  and  course  which  a  six-oar  might  take, 
are  worthy  of  a  word  of  description.  Three  miles  and 
a  half  down  stream  there  is  "Braman's"  in  Boston; 
four  miles  to  the  westward  is  the  dam  in  Watertown ; 
and  usually  these  two  extremes  are  the  limit  of  a 
six-oar's  course.  The  Charles  River,  just  above  the 
colleges,  is  a  most  insignificant  stream.  It  is  narrow, 
muddy,. crooked,  and  dirty.  Countless  drains,  sewers, 
gas-works,  and  factories  discharge  into  its  bed ;  and  the 
fish  have  long  since  deserted  its  poisonous  waters. 
Leaving  the  boat-houses,  the  boats  glide  up  stream 
under  the  bridge  leading  to  Brighton,  make  a  great 
sweep  to  the  north,  with  brown  meadows  on  either 
hand,  then  go  straight  ahead  for  a  mile  with  Mount 
Auburn  and  its  tower  on  the  right,  and  pass  under  the 
second  bridge.  Thence  high  banks  begin  to  shut  the 
river  in,  and  the  current  runs  swiftly  aslant  the  narrow 
draws  of  the  next  two  bridges.  It  requires  a  skilful 
boatman  to  pass  these  successfully.  Next  the  arsenal 
is  seen  on  the  right ;  and  then  comes  a  beautiful  stretch 


THE  EIYEE. 


149 


of  a  mile,  shut  in  by  liigli-woocled  banks  and  fnie  resi 
dences  on  either  hand,  where  the  water  is  dark  and 
smooth.  The  dam  at  Watertown,  the  limit  of  naviga- 
tion in  this  direction,  is  just  above.  This  is  altogether 
the  prettiest  pull,  though  the  most  tortuous  ;  and,  when 
the  wind  is  high,  it  is  the  only  course  that  is  quite  safe 
for  a  six-oar. 

Down  stream  from  the  boat-houses  the  marshes 
stretch  out  on  either  hand,  and  there  is  a  straight 
course  for  a  mile  to  the  south.  Sundry  factories  stand 
on  either  bank;  and  two  bridges  span  the  stream,  in 
which  an  occasional  schooner  is  seen  working  up  or 
down.  Then  there  is  a  sharp  turn  to  the  east,  the 
river  broadens  at  the  last  bridge,  with  its  double  draw 
(one  set  at  an  angle  with  the  other,  a  terror  to  timid 
bow-oars),  and  there  is  a  pull  over  the  Charles  River 
course  in  the  "basin."  If  there  is  a  strong  south  wind, 
the  cautious  captain  hugs  the  flats  on  that  side  of 
the  basin,  and  the  old  Milldam  road :  if  the  wind  is 
north  or  north-west,  he  keeps  close  under  the  lee  of 
the  Cambridge  shore.  On  this  eight  miles  of  winding 
river  or  broad  basin,  the  boating-men  at  Harvard  do 
their  spring,  summer,  and  fall  work. 

Tom  Hawes's  plan  of  having  his  men  work  together 
during  the  winter  at  the  gymnasium,  though  scoffed  at 
by  most  of  the  older  boating-men,  had  been  wonder- 
fully efficacious  in  its  results ;  for  it  was  not  long  before 
the  crew  which  the  Freshmen  put  on  the  river  was  very 
generally  conceded  by  the  knowing  ones  to  be  second 
to -none,  always  excepting  the  "Harvard  : so,  at  least, 
thought  Wilkinson,  the  stroke  and  captain  of  that  boat, 
and  so  he  did  not  hesitate  to  say. 


150 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"I  tell  you  wliat,  Tom,"  he  said  confidentially  a 
dozen  times  to  tlio  Freshman  stroke,  for  the  two  were 
great  friends,  "  youVe  got  a  splendid  crew,  and  it's  my 
belief  that  j^ou'U  do  something  surpassing  even  youi 
own  expectations  before  the  season  is  over." 

Think  so  ?  "  said  Tom,  his  dark  face  flushing  with 
pride. 

"  Think  so  ?  I  know  so.  That  work  you  did  last 
winter  has  been  the  making  of  you ;  and,  by  Jove  I 
you've  got  one  man,  that  if  I  had  my  way  I'd  have  in 
the  '  Harvard '  before  to-morrow." 

"  Wentworth?"  asked  Tom,  looking  a  little  glum  at 
the  prospect  of  losing  his  best  oar. 

"  Yes  :  Wentworth  ;  he  is  as  strong  built  and  as  well 
made  a  man  as  I  ever  saw,  and  he  pulls  the  prettiest 
oar  on  the  river.  If  I  could  take  him  and  you,  and 
turn  out  some  of  those  lazy  dogs  who  take  it  out  in 
loafing  now,  and  think  they  can  make  up  for  it  by 
'  spurting '  for  a  couple  of  weeks  by  and  by,  it  would 
be  an  av'ful  good  day's  work." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you,  Ed  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Wilkinson,  with  a  shake  of  the  head, 
"  turn  out  a  Senior,  and  take  in  a  Freshman  ?  That 
would  never  do,  Tom ;  I  must  make  the  most  of  what 
I  have ;  it  will  be  a  good  lesson  if  we  are  beaten,  and 
will  teach  the  fellows  that  a  name  don't  go  far  towards 
helping  v/in  a  boat-race;"  and  he  departed  a  little  cast 
down  in  his  thoughts. 

Sam,  who  had  given  his  heart  and  soul  to  the  boat, 
had  not  acquired  the  enviable  reputation  of  being  a 
crack  oar  v/ithout  doing  the  requisite  amount  of  hard 
work ;  and  he  will  ever  remember  the  first  pull  he  took 
on  this  river. 


THE  KITEB. 


151 


"  Be  down  at  the  boat-house  at  ten,"  Smith  had  said 
to  his  men :  "  we  are  going  to  try  a  little  pull  this  morn- 
ing." They  had  been  dreaming  for  months  of  the  hour 
when  they  should  begin  the  season's  work  in  the  boat ; 
and  who  could  be  a  laggard  at  such  a  time  ?  Tom  came 
last,  and  unlocked  the  door;  and  Sam  set  his  foot  within 
the  enchanted  enclosure  for  the  first  time.  The  boat- 
house  stood  high  above  the  water,  the  floor  being  cut 
away  in  the  centre,  leaving  a  space  forty  feet  by  eight 
or  ten,  where  the  boat  was  hoisted  and  lowered.  A 
boat,  the  club  "  lap.,"  was  slung  into  the  "  gaskets," 
ready  to  be  dropped  to  the  water.  An  old  shell  was 
securely  strapped  to  the  rafters  overhead ;  and  two  or 
three  sets  of  strong  spruce  oars  with  "spoon"  blades 
rested  on  pegs  against  the  walls.  Farther  on,  in  the 
front  of  the  building,  with  its  single  window  destitute 
of  sash  and  glass,  commanding  a  view  of  the  river,  was 
a  rude  dressing-room  eight  feet  square;  every  thing 
was  of  the  roughest  and  most  primitive  style.  The 
accommodations  are  much  better  now,  for  both  boats 
and  men. 

"  Come,  boys,"  said  Smith,  taking  his  place  at  the  bow 
gasket,  "  we  have  no  time  to  lose."  ,  Tom  sprang  aft  at 
the  word,  and  called  out,  "  All  ready  to  lower  here  !  " 

"  Lower  her,  then ! "  said  Smith,  and  in  a  moment 
the  boat  rested  lightly  on  the  water.  "  Down  with 
you,  Tom ! "  At  the  word  Tom  descended,  and 
crawled  to  the  after-seat.  "  Down,  Lewis !  Went- 
worth,  you  may  go  next,  and  pull  three.  Dovv^n,  four. 
Now,  five."  Thus  the  first  five  men  were  seated 
in  the  boat.  Then  Smith  passed  down  the  oars  in 
order,  first  to  the  stroke,  and  last  his  own,  which  is 


152 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


placed  by  number,  five,  resting  on  the  bow  outrigger. 

Now  pass  lier  ahead  a  little,  boys,  while  I  clear  the 
stern  gasket,"  cried  Smith ;  and  the  boat  was  propelled 
gently  ahead,  the  stern  gasket  hauled  up  and  stowed 
away.  "  Now  back  her  a  little,"  and  the  bow  gasket 
was  cleared ;  and  allowance  being  made  for  the  ebb 
tide,  was  left  so  that  it  might  be  in  the  right  place  when 
they  came  back.  Last  of  all,  every  thing  having  been 
secured,  Smith  slid  down  the  rope,  and  took  his  seat  on 
the  bow  thwart.  They  were  still  under  the  boat-house, 
half  entangled  amid  the  piles  which  supported  it ;  but 
then  the  orders  came  thick  and  fast. 

"  Back  her  out,  boys,  —  easy ;  now  hold  hard  port 
and  back  her,  starboard  !  "  The  boat  swung  gracefully, 
and  pointed  down  stream.  "  Hold  all !  Ready !  give 
way !  "  and  taking  an  easy  stroke  they  slid  down  past 
the  brown  meadows,  the  smoky  factories,  under  the 
bridges,  and  were  soon  out  on  the  basin. 

It  was  one  of  those  very  charming  mornings,  which 
sometimes  adorn  the  early  spring ;  the  air  was  mild, 
and  the  surface  of  the  river  without  a  ripple.  With 
bared  heads  and  arms,  the  young  fellows  pulled  with 
the  utmost  enthusiasm.  Though  Sam  was  perhaps  the 
strongest  and  soundest  man  of  the  six,  and  had  pulled 
a  boat  more  miles  than  any  two  of  them,  this  was  his 
first  experience  in  a  six-oar;  and  he  was  very  glad 
indeed  when  the  command,  "  Let  her  go,"  was  given 
way  down  on  the  basin,  and  they  enjoyed  a  little  rest. 

Even  before  they  had  reached  the  first  bridge,  Sam 
had  discovered  that  this  work  in  a  six-oar  was  qu'te 
different  from  any  thing  he  had  ever  done  in  his  life. 
He  was  used  to  pidling  short,  quick  strokes,  with  two 


THE  KIYEE. 


153 


oars,  in  a  boat  tliat  sat  up  high  out  of  the  water ;  but 
now  the  boat  was  only  a  few  inches  above  the  surface 
of  the  stream,  was  narrow,  and  hung  with  out-riggers : 
tlie  oars  were  long  and  heavy,  and  the  stroke  vv^as  a 
mystery  which  he  was  conscious  he  could  not  solve. 
He  caught  two  or  three  "  crabs,"  and  felt  that  he  was 
expending  twice  as  much  strength  as  was  necessary. 
By  the  time  they  reached  the  boat-houses,  there  were 
several  large  blisters  on  his  hands,  and  he  was  very 
much  disgusted  with  himself. 

After  the  boat  was  stowed  away,  and  the  toilets  com- 
pleted, Smith  took  Sam's  arm,  and  the  pair  walked  on 
apart.  Our  friend  was  entirely  humble  in  spirit,  and 
willing:  to  receive  advice.  He  had  felt  the  utmost 
confidence,  and  had  expressed  his  sentiments  to  that 
effect  with  a  great  deal  of  freedom,  that,  if  he  could 
once  get  into  a  boat  with  these  fellows  who  seemed  to 
think  that  his  ignorance  in  the  art  of  pulling  a  boat 
was  extreme,  he  would  show  them  how  wonderfully 
mistaken  they  were  ;  but  now  he  began  to  think  that 
there  might,  after  all,  be  something  for  him  to  learn 
about  boating. 

"You  meet  badly,  Wentw^orth,"  was  Smith's  first 
comment  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of  ear-shot  of  the 
rest ;  "  that  seems  to  be  your  greatest  fault." 

"  I  don't  think  I  quite  understand  what  you  mean  by 
'  meeting.' " 

"  No  :  I  suppose  not.    It  is  simply  cutting  short  the 
end  of  the  stroke,  instead  of  pulling  it  through  honestlj^,^ 
and  is  the  commonest  fault  in  the  world.    You  pull  all 
right  enough  till  your  body  gets  back  past  the  perpen- 
dicular :  then,  instead  of  pulling  on  till  you  bring  the 


154 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


handle  of  tlie  oar  to  touch  the  body,  you  jump  forward 
and  meet  the  oar,  and  so  cut  off  as  much  as  a  third  of 
the  stroke.    Am  I  intelligible  ?  " 
"  I  think  so." 

"  I  am  going  to  have  you  out  in  a  wherry,  and  show 
you  just  what  I  mean.  I  suppose  Tom's  stroke  Avas 
different  from  what  you  pull  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  get  the  knack  of  it  at  all,"  said  Sam, 
very  humbly. 

"  I  think  you  owe  me  one  on  this,"  said  Smith,  with  a 
good-natured  laugh.  "  However,  you  keep  stroke  pretty 
well,  and  pull  a  deuced  strong  oar  ;  and  I  want  you  to 
pull  number  three  in  the  boat.  The  whole  philosophy 
of  rowing  well  consists  in  economizing  every  ounce 
of  force,  and  putting  it  into  the  oar ;  and  practice  is  the 
only  means  that  I  know  of  by  which  the  art  can  be 
learned.  You  want  to  go  out  in  a  crew  whenever  you 
can  get  a  chance :  the  way  to  learn  to  pull  a  boat  is  to 
pull  a  boat ;  that  is  my  theory  about  it  all." 

Although  the  first  effort  was  so  very  near  a  failure, 
there  was  little,  except  the  peculiar  style  in  which 
Hawes  handled  his  oar,  that  our  young  man  had  to 
acquire ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  learned  his 
stroke  to  perfection.  He  pulled  perhaps  the  strongest 
and  most  graceful  oar  on  the  river,  and  was  at  once  the 
pride  of  the  boating-men  of  his  class,  and  the  particu- 
lar pet  of  half  a  score  of  fellows  who,  though  they 
could  not  or  did  not  care  to  pull  themselves,  took 
a  very  deep  interest  in  every  thing  that  pertained  to 
boating,  and  backed  up  their  crew  with  an  enthusiasm 
that  was  quite  Freshmanic.  There  was  now  and  then  a 
croaker  who  would  shake  his  head,  and  doubt  Sam's 


THE  EIVEE. 


155 


power  for  endurance,  tliough  admitting  that  his  style 
was  well  enough  ;  and  as  the  time  for  the  Harvard 
regatta  drew  on,  not  a  few  in  the  rival  boats  as  well  as 
their  backers  calculated  the  chances  of  Wentworth  and 
Lewis  breaking  down  before  the  end  of  the  race,  and 
the  event  came  by  degrees  to  be  counted  on  as  almost 
sure  to  happen. 

"  If  your  men  were  not  Freshmen,"  Haskill  used  to 
say  to  Yilliers,  more  for  the  purpose  of  rousing  that 
gentleman  to  an  expression  of  his  enthusiasm  than  as 
a  statement  of  his  own  views,  "  there  might  be  some 
show  for  them  in  the  race  here  in  June  ;  but  who  ever 
heard  of  such  a  thing  as  a  Freshman  boat  beating? " 

"  It  has  never  been  done,  I  know." 

"  But  there  always  has  to  be  a  first  time,  eh  ?  Well, 
you'll  see  them  spurt  off  in  great  style,  and  tliey  may 
hold  on  till  they  reach  the  stake,  but  they  can't  stand  it 
all  the  way  down.  You'll  see  either  Lewis  or  Went- 
worth  flop  up  somewhere  on  the  home  stretch ;  j^ou'll 
see ! "  The  pompous  little  Junior  only  gave  expression 
to  sentiments  which  prevailed  more  and  more  as  the 
time  for  the  June  regatta  drew  on. 

All  this  time  the  men  were  steadily  at  work,  taking 
a  long  puU  after  recitations  in  the  evening,  and  going 
out  for  a  "  paddle,"  "as  Tom  was  pleased  to  call  a  pull 
of  tliree  or  four  miles,  in  the  morning  whenever  oppor- 
tunity favored.  And  all  this  time,  too.  Smith  did  his 
duty  by  all  the  men  in  the  boat ;  took  them  apart,  each 
one  at  a  time,  and  criticised  their  faults,  and  praised 
their  good  points ;  explained  his  theories,  and  illustrated 
them  by  example.  How  he  contrived  to  keep  up  with 
his  college  work,  and  pass  the  examinations  which 


156 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


began  to  come  along  frequently,  was  as  macli  of  a 
mystery  to  himself  as  to  any  one ;  for  tlie  best  of  liis 
time  and  energies  during  these  months  were  put  into 
the  boat. 

Ah,  it  was  a  work  that  called  for  all  his  enthusiasm, 
skill,  and  patience ;  and  often  was  the  young  fellow 
fairly  discouraged  during  that  first  six  weeks'  struggle 
with  his  unpractised  crew.  Lewis,  who  pulled  number 
two,  and  set  the  stroke  for  the  starboard  oars,  who  was 
so  strong  and  willing,  would  lag  a  little  behind  the 
stroke.  Moreover,  he  had  no  less  than  seven  boils  in 
the  course  of  the  spring ;  and  it  interferes  sadly  with 
regular  v/ork  to  be  obliged  to  go  out  with  a  substitute 
so  often. 

ISTumber  Four,  when  a  little  excited,  was  sure  to  pull 
ou.t  of  the  boat,  and  finish  with  a  jerk,  causing  the 
narrow  shell  to  roll  badly ;  and  Number  Five  was  a 
long  time  learning  to  keep  stroke  at  all.  After  the 
faults  of  the  individual  men  were  mostly  corrected, 
there  yet  remained  that  most  difhcult  problem  of 
bringing  the  crew  to  pull  together:  by  this  is  meant 
not  merely  keeping  stroke,  which  almost  any  half-dozen 
indifferent  oarsmen  can  do  with  a  little  practice ;  but 
the  simultaneous,  and,  as  it  were,  spontaneous  move- 
ment of  all  six  men  on  the  stroke  and  the  recover,  so 
that  the  bodies  sway  as  if  animated  by  a  single  impulse, 
and  when  the  boat  comes  bow  on  sharp  as  a  razor,  on  a 
course  as  true  as  an  air-line,  two  oars  are  seen  instead 
of  six,  and  one  cannot  tell  unless  by  the  pace,  or  till  she 
sv/erves  to  come  in,  whether  it  is  a  six-oar  or  a  wherry. 
Some  very  good  crews  never  learn  this;  but  Tom 
Hawes  was  a  man  to  pull  on  for  miles,  like  a  perfectly 


THE  EIVEK. 


157 


conducted  macliine,  never  relaxing  or  quickening  his 
pace  except  at  order,  and  never  maldng  a  false  stroke, 
—  a  perfect  model  for  liis  men  to  imitate;  and  after 
many  tedious  hours,  beginning  at  first  slowly,  and  grad- 
ually increasing  the  pace,  Smith  with  sparkling  eyes  at 
length  declared  that  the  secret  had  been  discovered, 
and  that  the  crew  pulled  together  perfectly. 

The  general  interest  in  boating  increases  as  the 
weather  grows  warmer,  and  culminates  in  June  ;  and 
the  river  presents  a  lively  appearance  of  an  evening 
at  this  season  of  the  year.  The  evening  pull  is  the  one 
that  a  captain  can  be  sure  of  getting  his  crew  together 
for.  At  six  there  is  a  rush  from  the  recitations  for  the 
boat-houses,  a  hasty  stripping  of  the  men ;  half  a  dozen 
boats  drop  lightly  into  the  water,  shoot  out  from  under 
the  boat-houses,  and  are  off.  Later  come  the  lazier 
men,  who,  not  anxious  to  win  distinction  behind  some 
crack  stroke,  enjoy  their  supper,  and  come  sauntering 
down  for  a  little  paddle  in  a  lap."  There  is  no  strip- 
ping for  this  pastime,  unless  a  coat  is  left  to  the  care  of 
a  friend;  and  sometimes  a  youth  starts  out  without 
removing  his  silk  hat  or  his  half-smoked  cigar.  Every- 
body who  owns  a  wherry  or  a  "double-scull  "  is  on  the 
river,  while  scores  of  friendly  students  throng  the 
boat-houses  and  the  wherrj'-raft,  waiting  to  see  their 
favorites  come  in;  and  it  is  the  pleasantest  occasion  of 
the  day. 

A  time  like  this  is  not  the  most  propitious  for  a 
beginner  to  take  his  first  pull  in  a  crank  wherry. 

There  goes  Adams  I  Hi !  just  look  at  him,  will 
you  !  "  shouted  Longstreet,  one  day,  in  high  glee.  "  If 
that  fellow  hasn't  been  preparing  a  watery  grave  foj 


158 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


himself,  then  I'm  mistaken."  Lyman  and  even  Villiers 
joined  him  in  a  hearty  laugh  at  Adams,  who,  a  few 
yards  out  from  the  float,  was  exerting  all  his  skill  to 
keep  a  very  narrow  shell  right  side  up. 

"  She  looks  mighty  crank,"  was  Villiers's  comment. 

"  She's  fifteen  inches  wide,  that's  just  what  she  is," 
said  Longstreet ;  "  and  the  foolish  youth  never  pulled  in 
a  wherry  before.  He  had  better  advice  though.  Sam 
told  him  to  buy  some  kind  of  a  second-hand  craft, 
twenty-eight  or  thirty  inches  wide,  and  get  the  hang  of 
the  thing  a  little,  and  then  he  could  get  a  shell  as 
narrow  as  he  liked.  But  no,  he  must  have  a  boat 
fifteen  inches  wide,  and  no  wider  ;  was  going  in  for  one 
only  thirteen  inches,  but  the  boat-builder  thought  he 
had  better  not." 

"  You  may  bet  he  would  rather  be  ashore  than  where 
he  is,"  quoth  Lyman,  as  the  narrow  craft  rolled  first  to 
one  side  and  then  to  the  other,  and  seemed  in  imminent 
danger  of  capsizing.  "Hallo,  Mary  !  "  he  shouted,  good- 
naturedly  ;  put  your  oar  in  deep,  and  take  it  out  with 
a  jerk." 

There  is  no  compassion  manifested  by  any  one  for  an 
unpractised  boatman,  especially  if  he  be  a  Freshman ; 
and  a  score  of  students  were  by  this  time  looking  at 
Adams's  awkward  efforts  to  pull  back  to  the  float, 
shouting  at  him,  and  making  merry  at  his  expense. 

"  You'd  better  get  out  of  that  before  the  six-oars 
come  in !  "  shouted  Haskill.  "  I  would  just  like  to  see 
the  '  Harvard '  coming  at  him  forty-five  a  minute,  and 
going  to  cut  him  right  in  two,  and  see  how  he  would 
get  out  of  the  way." 

"  The  best  service  we  can  do  is  to  go  out  and  tow 


THE  EIYER. 


15S 


him  in,"  said  Yilliers ;  but  a  friendly  double-scull  came 
along  just  then,  and  performed  the  ser^^ce. 

"  There  comes  a  '  six  '  I  "  exclaimed  Huntingdon,  who 
had  joined  the  company ;  and  as  the  flash  of  oars  was 
seen  under  the  bridge  half  a  mile  down  stream,  a 
dozen  watches  were  quickly  brought  into  requisition 
to  time  the  stroke.  "  Thirty-four,"  continued  that  gen- 
tleman :  "  it's  the  Sophs.,  I  guess,"  with  a  contemptu- 
ous look  at  the  Sophomore  of  football  fame,  who  was 
standing  near,  quietly  smoking  a  cigar. 

"  I  guess  that's  all  you  know  about  it,"  retorted  the 

latter  with  a  scowl.    "  More  likely  it's  your  own  

boat." 

"  It's  the  scientific  crew,"  said  Yilliers.  See  their 
starboard  oars,  in  what  beautiful  succession  they  take 
the  water ;  "  and  there  was  a  very  general  laugh. 

"There!  there  comes  the  'Harvard'!"  quoth  a  tall 
and  dignified  Senior;  and  again  the  watches  were 
brought  into  play.  "  Forty-two  ;  that's  the  stroke  that 
is  going  to  do  the  work  at  Worcester."  Conscious 
looks  and  knowing  nods,  fi-eely  exchanged,  showed  with 
what  complacency  the  statement  was  accepted. 

"  You  are  out  there,"  said  Haskill,  after  a  careful 
look,  and  with  all  the  dignity  which  he  could  com- 
mand. "It  is  the  Junior  crew:  I  haA'en't  watched 
their  stroke  not  to  know  it  when  I  see  it,"  which 
contradictory  statement  was  received  by  the  Senior 
with  a  look  more  eloquent  than  words. 

"  Sold !  all  of  you,"  cried  Lyman,  as  the  boat  on 
which  every  one  was  looking  with  an  admiring  gaze 
drew  nearer :  "  it's  the  Freshmen.  I  thought  I  couldn't 
be  mistaken  in  Tom's  stroke,  though  it  is  quicker  than 
common." 


160 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Yes,"  said  Villiers,  pointing  up  stream  to  the  bridge 
from  under  which  a  couple  of  boats  were  emerging 
"  There  come  the  '  Harvard '  and  the  Juniors  from  up 
river." 

"  Don't  they  pull  all  together,  though  !  "  said  Long- 
street,  delightedly,  with  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  ap- 
proaching boat.  "  By  Jove  !  how  I  wish  I  was  a  third 
bigger  and  heavier ! "  and  the  little  fellow  sighed 
mournfully. 

"  Their  pulling  isn't  beaten  on  this  river,"  said  Vil- 
liers, emphatically.  "  Come,  let  us  go  around  and  help 
them  stow  things  away;  "  and  the  pair  rushed  around  to 
the  boat-house  where  the  class  shell  was  kept,  to  wait 
on  their  heroes,  minister  to  their  wants  as  far  as  might 
be,  talk  over  their  hopes  for  the  hundredth  time,  and 
escort  them  to  supper. 


XI. 


IN  A  "  SIX-OAB." 

As  these  spring  and  summer  weeks  of  Sam's  college 
life  were  entirely  devoted  to  boating,  a  few  passages 
from  his  note-book  selected  here  and  there  will  give  the 
story  of  what  was  done  in  the  crew  better  than  it  could 
otherwise  be  told. 

"  Saturday^  April  21.  —  Six,  or  rather  seven,  of  us  go 
off  on  a  very  long  pull  this  morning.  We  borrow  an  old 
'  lap.'  from  the  scientific  crew,  and  in  place  of  the  bag 
of  sand  usually  carried  in  the  stern  to  trim  ship,  we 
take  Longstreet,  who  is  scarcely  heavier.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful morning,  and  the  tide  is  about  half  ebb.  The  sun 
is  bright  and  warm ;  and  we  strip  to  it,  bare  back,  and 
slip  down  under  the  first  bridges,  across  the  basin,  and 
even  down  through  the  West  End  and  Charlestown 
bridges.  It  is  a  scratch  crew :  I  am  pulling  stroke,  and 
Smith  bow.  It  is  fortunate  he  is  along,  for  there  is 
a  very  network  of  bridges,  with  draws  coming  close 
together  and  at  right  angles,  and  the  tide  running 
swift ;  and  with  a  less  skilful  captain  we  must  needs 
have  come  to  grief.  But  the  last  one  is  passed,  and 
hurrah !  here  we  are  out  on  Boston  Harbor.  The 
waves  from  a  ferry-boat  caught  us,  and  set  us  dancing 
merrily,  as  we  crossed  the  stream ;  the  first  time  that  I 

161 


162 


STUDENT-LITE  AT  HARVARD. 


have  felt  tlie  swell  of  the  '  gray  old  sea '  for  nearly  a 
year.  We  leave  the  nav3--yard  on  the  right,  pass  the 
English  steamer  in  her  dock,  and  hug  the  East  Boston 
shore. 

" '  Going  down  to  Taft's,  Smith  ?  '  says  the  man 
behind  me ;  '  look  out  for  the  flats  if  you  are.  It's 
almost  low  water  now ;  the  channel  is  on  the  south  side 
of  Apple  Island.' 

"  '  Give  way,  there,  and  put  your  wind  into  your  oar, 
if  you  have  any  to  spare,'  said  Smith;  and  the  boat 
made  a  sudden  sheer,  and  darted  into  the  narrow  chan- 
nel between  Fort  Winthrop  and  Apple  Island. 

"  We  landed  on  the  beach  at  Taft's  at  ]ialf-past 
eleven,  ten  miles  in  an  hour  and  fifty  minutes ;  not  so 
bad  for  a  scratch-crew  of  Freshmen,  though  to  be  sure 
we  had  the  tide  with  us.  We  hauled  the  boat  high 
and  dry  out  of  the  water,  put  on  our  shirts  (coats  and 
hats  we  had  none),  and  marched  up  to  the  hotel  for 
some  lunch.  This  is  a  famous  place  for  game  dmners ; 
and  the  host  said  he  could  get  us  up  one  in  a  very  short 
time,  twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour;  but  we  thought  a 
lunch  would  do  very  well,  and  we  devoured  a  quantity 
of  cold  fowl  and  bread  with  ale  ad  libitum,  Longstreet 
insisted  that  it  was  his  affair,  and  settled  the  score.  It 
was  fortunate  that  he  was  with  us ;  for  I  doubt  if  any 
one  else  had  any  money,  being  all  in  boating  attire. 
While  the  others  were  lounging  and  resting  off,  I 
climbed  a  high  bluff  near  by,  and  had  a  magnificent 
view  of  the  harbor  and  its  islands,  and  the  bay,  with  the 
coast  stretching  away  in  the  blue  distance  to  the  north. 
HoAV  enticing  the  water  looked !  A  fresh  breeze  had 
sprung  up  from  the  south-west,  with  the  flood-tide  ;  and 
I  fairly  longed  for  a  sailboat  for  a  few  hours. 


IN  A  "  SIX-OAK." 


163 


"  The  pull  home  was  rather  a  drag.  We  had  the 
tide  with  us,  but  the  head  wind  increased  in  intensity 
every  minute  till  it  blew  half  a  gale,  and  kicked  up  a 
chop  that  tested  the  sea-going  qualities  of  the  boat  to 
the  utmost.  I  had  no  idea  that  it  could  be  so  rough 
on  the  basin.  We  were  half  full  of  water  before  we 
could  gain  a  lee  shore  and  smooth  water ;  and  Longstreet 
was  wet  and  chilled  through,  though  he  endured  without 
flinching.  We  reached  the  boat-house  about  two,  P.M. ; 
and  I  confess  to  being  thorougiily  tired  out.  I  don't 
think  I  should  care  to  pull  stroke  for  a  regular  thing. 
Towards  night  my  back  and  arms  became  uncomforta- 
ble in  the  extreme,  and  any  clothing  unendurable  ;  but 
chum  acted  the  part  of  Good  Samaritan,  and  poured  oil, 
in  the  form  of  glycerine,  on  my  wounds ;  and  the  sore- 
ness was  speedily  dispelled.  I  shall  have  a  magnificent 
brown  on. 

"  Monday^  April  23.  —  A  ten-mile  pull.  Just  as  we 
turn  for  home,  up  comes,  or  rather  down,  comes,  a 
sudden  shower.  It  rushes  on  over  the  calm  surface 
of  the  water,  sounding  for  all  the  world  like  dry  leaves 
driven  by  a  gust  of  wind.  I  turn  wonderingly  to  see 
what  it  is  that  sounds  so  queerly,  and  see  the  dark  line 
of  the  shower  distinctly  marked  across  the  smooth  sur- 
face of  the  river,  and  advancing  swiftly  nearer.  A 
drop  strikes  my  face ;  and  we  are  almost  instantly  cut 
off  from  sight  of  any  thing  fifty  feet  distant.  T  Avas 
bare  back  again ;  and  the  drops  fairly  took  my  breath 
away  at  first,  they  were  so  cold  and  cutting.  It  is 
curious  how  we  can  expose  ourselves  as  we  do  witiiout 
getting  cold.  I  have  been  drenched  almost  every  day 
with  salt  or  fresh  water,  and  pulled  with  the  water 


164 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


ankle-deep  in  the  boat,  without  experiencing  any  un- 
pleasant effects ;  and  the  same  is  true  of  every  one  else. 

"  Tuesday^  April  24.  —  A  very  windy  pull  to-day. 
We  hug  the  lee  shore  wherever  we  can  find  one,  and 
ship  considerable  water  at  best,  though  we  get  down 
to  Braman's  and  back.  As  we  came  up  through  the 
lower  bridge,  we  got  a  glimpse  of  a  crew  coming  down, 
hugging  the  shore.  They  turn  wide  to  go  back,  not 
caring  to  try  the  basin,  and  so  get  across  our  course, 
and  are  near  being  run  down.  Smith  calls  out,  '  Hold 
her,  hold  hard !  back  water ! '  and  apologizes  to  the 
captain  of  the  other  crew,  which  proves  to  be  the 
Junior  first,  in  their  new  shell.  '  All  right,'  says  the 
latter :  '  it  was  my  fault ; '  and  they  dart  off ;  but  one 
man  says,  loud  enough  for  everybody  in  both  boats  to 
hear,  '  Ho,  they  are  only  d — d  Freshmen,  and  didn't 
know  any  better.'  We  had  only  our  clumsy  old  '  lap.,' 
and  of  course  couldn't  keep  up  with  them ;  and  Smith 
wouldn't  let  Tom  quicken  in  the  least,  for  he  says  we 
do  not  know  our  ABC  about  rowing  yet,  and  that  we 
do  not  pull  together  at  all ;  but  I  imagine  we  all  pulled 
the  best  we  knew.  About  half  way  between  the  lower 
and  the  second  or  middle  bridge,  the  river  turns,  and 
runs  north  and  south,  and  a  south  wind  has  full  sweep 
for  more  than  half  a  mile ;  and  to-day  it  proved  to  be  a 
little  too  choppy  for  the  Juniors  and  their  new  shell ;  for 
we  were  hardly  around  the  bend  when  Smith  called  out, 
'  Thunder,  boys  !  there  go  the  J uniors,  swamped.  Give 
way  lively !  hit  her  up,  Tom !  pull  all  you  know ! '  In  a 
very  few  minutes  it  was,  '  Hold  hard,  all ! '  and  we 
had  the  satisfaction  of  picking  up  the  Juniors  who  a 
few  minutes  before  had  called  us  d — d  Freshmen,  and 


IN  A  "SIX-OAE." 


165 


of  towing  the  boat  ashore  for  them.  Verily  life  is 
checkered.  The  Juniors  are  fine-looking  fellows,  the 
favorites  on  the  river  for  the  June  regatta,  and  thej^- 
pull  a  rousing  good  stroke ;  but  I  think  we  are  going  to 
rub  them  closer  than  they  imagine. 

'Tuesday^  May  1. — No  chance  for  any  boating  for 
the  past  week.  It  has  blomi  a  gale  of  wind  all  the 
time,  and  every  boat  that  ventured  out  was  swamped : 
so  we  have  worked  in  the  gymnasium,  and  taken  long 
tramps ;  but  I  enjoy  the  boat  much  better.  It  has  been 
a  long  time  since  I  prepared  a  lesson  thoroughly.  I 
pony  out  all  the  Greek  and  Latin,  and  run  my  luck  at 
mathematics.  There  is  time  enough,  but  I  can't  bring 
my  mind  to  it. 

"  Saturday^  May  26.  —  Our  new  shell  has  come  at 
last,  and  a  perfect  beauty  too,  forty-five  feet  long, 
and  twenty-two  inches  wide.  The  new  Harvard  shell 
is  twenty-six  inches  wide,  and  looks  almost  like  a  tub 
compared  with  our  boat.  There  has  never  been  one  so 
narrow  used  here  before  ;  and  half  the  college  has  been 
down  to  see  '  Freshy's  new  boat.'  The  general  impres- 
sion seems  to  prevail,  that  she  will  be  too  crank  to  pull 
in  ;  but  Tom  saj^s  a  boat  needs  only  to  be  wide  enough 
to  sit  in,  and  we  had  no  trouble  pulling  her  up  from 
Braman's.  She  came  on  in  last  night's  steamer  from 
New  York ;  and  four  of  us  went  to  Boston  this  morning 
early,  and  brought  her  across  the  city  on  our  shoulders 
(a  pretty  good  load),  and  were  as  proud  as  peacocks, 
too.  There  was  a  New  York  sporting  gentleman  who 
came  on  in  charge,  as  perfect,  a  specimen  of  a  '  plug- 
ugly  '  as  I  ever  conceived  of,  with  a  red  face,  and  a  mous- 
tache black  with  nitrate  of  silver,  and  big  enough  to 


166 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


stuff  a  pincushion.  Tom  said  he  belonged  to  a  pro- 
fessional crew,  and  he  said  he  wanted  to  see  the 
boat-houses,  and  what  sort  of  stuff  the  Harvard  was 
made  of:  so  we  gave  him  a  chance  to  work  his  passage 
up. 

"  It  is  decided  that  the  regatta  shall  come  off  on-  Sat- 
urday, June  16  ;  and  there  will  probably  be  four  boats. 
The  Juniors  are  the  favorites ;  as  much  because  they 
are  Juniors  as  any  thing,  I  suspect.  I  think  we  come 
next  in  order  in  general  estimation.  Sometimes  I  think 
our  chances  for  coming  in  ahead  are  lirst-rate ;  and  then 
it  seems  as  tliough  there  was  little  hope  of  doing  any 
thing.  The  members  of  the  winning  crew  are  to  have 
their  names  inscribed  on  the  big  silver  cup  in  the  libra- 
ry, a  sort  of  transmittendum  prize  ;  and,  in  addition  to 
this,  there  are  to  be  twelve  silver  medals  for  the  two 
winning  boats.  Smith  says  that  of  course  we  are  to 
tr}^  for  this  championship,  but  he  don't  intend  to  have 
us  overdo,  as  the  race,  the  one  we  want  to  be  sure  of 
winning,  will  come  off  at  Worcester  in  July.  We  sent 
the  Yale  men  a  challenge,  and  it  was  regularly  ac- 
cepted ;  and  there  is  no  going  home  for  May  recess  for 
us  this  year.  Smith  having  ordered  us  to  stay  here 
and  work. 

"  Saturday^  June  2.  —  We  have  been  here  all  the 
week,  taking  a  double  allowance  of  hard  work  instead 
of  play.  The  other  crews,  Harvard  and  all,  broke  up 
Monday  for  a  week  ;  and  we  have  had  undisputed  pos- 
session of  the  river.  Wilkinson  tried  his  best  to  keep 
his  men  together,  but  to  no  purpose.  It  is  right  jolly 
being  at  college  with  no  prayers,  and  no  bell-riuging 
every  houi*  to  call  to  recitations  or  lecture.    We  give 


EST  A  "SIX-OAR." 


167 


ourselves  up  entirely  to  boating,  and  it  suits  me  per- 
fectly. 

"  We  went  into  training  Monday ;  that  is,  as  much 
training  as  we  are  to  have  until  the  annuals  are  over, 
and  we  go  to  Worcester.  What  we  have  had  of  it  isn't 
so  bad  either.  We  have  to  knock  oE  smoking  ;  but 
that  comes  harder  on  Smith  and  Tom,  than  any  one 
else.  We  are  not  permitted  to  drink  any  coffee  or 
liquor  of  any  kind,  and  only  a  limited  supply  of  cold 
water,  which  seems  foolish  enough ;  but  as  much  ale  as 
we  please.  We  turn  out  about  six  in  the  morning,  and 
breakfast  together  at  seven.  The  bill  of  fare  is  simple : 
we  have  cold  bread,  white  or  Graham,  the  older  the 
better,  tea  or  milk,  very  rare  steak  or  chops,  or  soft- 
boiled  eggs,  with  plenty  of  cracked  wheat  as  a  standard 
dish.  Xine  o'clock  sees  us  assembled  at  the  boat-house, 
stripped  for  a  pull.  We  start  out  at  a  slow  pace,  and, 
as  the  weather  is  pretty  well  settled  now,  generally 
go  down  into  the  '  basin,'  and  pull  over  the  course  at 
a  good  jog,  now  and  then  indulging  in  a  '  spurt ; '  and 
I  notice  that  these  spurts  come  oftener,  and  last  longer, 
every  day;  and  next  week  we  are  to  pull  on  time. 
Then  we  jog  along  up  to  the  boat-houses,  and  loaf 
about  till  dinner. 

"  Sunburns  are  in  high  estimation ;  and  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  rivalry  among  our  boys,  to  see  who  shall 
have  the  brownest  back.  We  are  generally  returned 
from  our  pull  by  eleven  o'clock  ;  and  for  the  next  two 
hours,  if  the  sun  is  hot,  Lewis  and  one  or  two  others 
stretch  themselves  out  at  full  length  on  the  platform 
in  front  of  the  boat-house,  or  on  the  wherry-raft,  and, 
naked  to  the  waist,  turn  up  first  their  chests  and  then 


168 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


their  backs  to  brown.  I  prefer  to  take  a  paddle  with 
Villiers  in  a  double-scull,  or,  if  it  is  too  warm,  lay  off 
in  the  shade. 

"  At  one  o'clock  we  dine  together,  on  rare  beef  or 
mutton,  with  potatoes  and  spinach  by  way  of  vegeta- 
bles, bread,  a  pitcher  of  foaming  ale,  and  a  grand  appe- 
tite for  sauce  for  the  whole  ;  and,  for  dessert,  we  have 
oatmeal  pudding,  or  boiled  cracked  wheat.  Then  we  lay 
off  until  four,  when  we  meet  for  our  '  constitutional,'  — 
say  a  matter  of  ten  miles,  at  a  steady  pace.  Perhaps, 
for  variety,  we  go  up  river :  it  is,  '  Easy,'  till  we  pass 
the  first  bridge  ;  then  it  is,  '  Give  way,  hard,  boys,'  and 
we  dash  along  till  the  river  bends  sharply,  and  then  a 
spurt  to  the  second  bridge ;  after  that,  '  Easy '  again,  for 
half  a  mile  ;  and  then,  passing  the  last  bridge,  we  do 
all  we  know,  till  the  word  comes,  '  Let  her  go,'  and  we 
are  at  Watertown.  Coming  home,  we  take  a  steady 
pace  ;  and  Smith  entertains  us  with  a  disquisition  on 
the  good  points  of  a  first-rate  oar,  by  way  of  comparison 
with  our  individual  pet  faults.  We  all  come  in  for  a 
share  of  the  criticism ;  and  sometimes  I  thmk  Smith  is 
a  regular  old  Betty,  he  is  so  needlessly  particular.  But 
Villiers  says  that  that  and  our  long  pulls  will  be  what 
will  put  us  ahead,  if  we  do  get  our  boat  in  first. 

"  Our  supper,  or  tea,  consists  of  oatmeal  mush,  or 
cracked  wheat,  with  sirup  or  milk,  bread  and  butter, 
and  tea  ;  and  at  nine  we  go  out  for  a  little  run  around 
the  Delta :  then  home,  and  rub  ourselves  down,  and  go 
to  bed.  It  won't  be  so  nice  when  college  work  begins 
again  ;  but  the  past  week  has  been  charming. 

"  Thursday  afternoon  a  sharp  shower  prevented  our 
taking  our  constitutional :  so  we  made  up  for  it  in  the 


IN  A  "  SIX-OAR." 


169 


evening,  pulling  quite  down  to  Braman's,  whence  we 
sallied  forth  in  quest  of  crackers  and  cheese  and  ale. 
As  we  pulled  slowly  up,  for  the  evening  was  delicious, 
the  moon  rose  nearly  full,  over  the  roofs  of  the  city ; 
and  the  surface  of  the  water,  before  stretching  away 
still  and  black  and  shadowy,  was  lighted  up  with  a  deli- 
cate silver  tint.  For  a  time,  nothing  broke  the  silence 
but  the  regular  dip  of  the  oars,  and  the  chatter  of  our 
voices  ;  for  discipline  was  relaxed  for  the  time,  and  the 
stroke  too;  and  we  struck  up  'Maid  of  Athens,'  and 
then  '  Fair  Harvard,'  and  made  night  melodious.  I  am 
sorry  that  this  is  our  last  day  of  inglorious  ease. 

'-'•Wednesday^  June  6.  —  The  buildings  are  lively  once 
more,  and  the  river  as  well ;  and  all  the  crews  are  at  it 
in  good  earnest,  out  twice  a  day,  to  make  up  for  lost 
time.  We  pulled  '  on  time  '  this  evening.  The  water 
was  lumpy,  and  we  could  not  do  our  best ;  but  our 
time  was  twenty  minutes,  twenty-one  seconds.  The 
time  of  the  winning  boat  last  year,  the  present  Juniors', 
though  not  the  same  crew,  was  twenty  minutes,  twenty- 
five  seconds  ;  and  they  had  smooth  water.  Yilliers  says 
it  is  good  enough.  I  had  forgotten  all  about  the  pretty 
little  girl  in  the  millinery  store  —  as,  indeed,  I  have  of 
late  forgotten  every  thing  except  boating ;  but  I  heard 
Tom  saying  that  we  must  have  six  pink  silk  handker- 
chiefs with  white  borders,  our  class  colors,  and  took 
upon  myself  the  charge  of  having  them  ready ;  and 
then  I  thought  that  very  likely  she  would  make  them, 
and  called  to  see.  It  is  surprising  how  delicate  and 
pretty  she  is.  Ruth  Leigh  it  seems  her  name  is.  I 
have  made  several  calls,  and  had  the  good  luck  not  to 
see  the  she-dragon  —  the  lean,  ill-favored  one  —  at  all. 


170 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


I  took  Tom  in  once,  to  make  sure  if  the  pattern  was 
quite  as  it  should  be ;  and,  when  we  came  out,  I  asked 
him  if  that  wasn't  a  pretty  girl.  He  said  that  really  he 
hadn't  noticed.  There  is  nothing  pretty  to  that  man, 
or  attractive-,  but  an  oar  or  an  out-rigger.  I  don't  un 
derstand  myself  how  that  girl  comes  to  be  there ;  and  I 
am  sure  she  is  out  of  her  element. 

"  Saturday^  June  9.  —  Only  one  week  more  !  and  our 
hopes  are  high.  We  had  a  brush  with  the  Harvard 
last  night,  and  surprised  nobody  so  much  as  ourselves. 
It  was  a  windy  evening,  and  we  had  pulled  up  to 
Watertown.  On  the  way,  we  had  shipped  a  good  deal 
of  water ;  and  beaching  the  boat  on  a  bit  of  smooth 
shore  near  the  village,  we  jumped  overboard,  lifted  her, 
and  turned  her  bottom  side  up;  then  we  got  in  again, — 
a  delicate  operation,  for  the  boat  is  really  crank,  —  and 
started  home  at  a  brisk  pace,  to  the  great  admiration 
and  delight  of  a  crowd  of  the  natives,  who  had  gathered 
at  the  shortest  notice  on  the  river's  bank. 

"  As  we  swept  around  into  the  calm,  shady  stretch  of 
water  just  below  there,  the  prettiest  mile  of  the  whole 
river,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  'six-oar'  lying  quietly 
in  under  the  bank,  waiting  for  us  to  come  abreast.  I 
only  glanced  for  an  instant,  out  of  the  corner  of  my 
eyes,  without  distinguishing  who  it  was.  '  It's  the 
Harvard,'  said  Smith,  in  a  whisper.  '  They  are  going 
to  give  us  a  rub.  Every  man  mind  his  oar,  and  eyes 
in  the  boat.  Don't  quicken,  Tom,'  as  the  stroke  was 
instantly  increased  :  '  we've  four  miles  and  a  half  good 
before  us,  and  we  can't  keep  this  up ; '  and  then  we 
pulled  on  in  silence,  with  no  sound  save  the.  regular 
swash  of  the  oars,  and  the  labored  breathing  of  the  men. 


IN  A  "SIX-OAE." 


171 


I  looked  steadily  at  Lewis's  neck,  and  watched  the  play 
of  the  muscles  on  his  broad  back ;  presently  the  narrow- 
ing banks  brought  the  boats  nearer,  and  I  could  see 
them  without  turning  my  head,  pegging  away  under 
the  left  bank  of  the  river ;  and,  as  a  sudden  turn  in  the 
course  brought  us  still  closer,  I  could  hear  that  they 
were  breathing  hard,  as  well.  We  were  alongside  for 
a  moment,  at  the  bridge  ;  and  then  came  the  quick 
order,  '  Hold  her  !  Hold  hard  all ! '  and  we  held  up 
a  second  for  them  to  go  through,  dashing  after  them  in 
a  most  reckless  style,  and  then  both  crews  hard  at  it ; 
they  under  the  left  bank,  and  we  under  the  right,  to 
avoid  their  wash ;  cutting  corners,  and  making  as 
straight  a  course  as  possible.  The  arsenal  sank  away 
in  the  distance,  the  hills  disappeared,  the  meadows 
began  to  broaden  on  either  hand  ;  and  again  it  was, 
'  Hold  her  hard,  boys  ! '  and  we  waited  for  them  again 
at  the  second  bridge.  How  good  that  half-minute's 
breathing-spell  was  I  it  put  new  life  into  me.  The  next 
mile  and  a  half  was  the  hardest  to  bear :  the  dash  and 
enthusiasm  were  all  gone,  and  we  pulled  with  dogged 
resolution,  not  quite  holding  our  own.  My  arms  ached, 
and  my  left  wrist  was  entirely  numb  ;  all  the  boys  were 
suffering,  and  the  stroke  was  much  slower.  But  both 
boats  put  on  a  tremendous  spurt  after  passing  the 
third  bridge ;  and  any  exertion  seemed  easy  at  the 
thought  that  a  hundred  men  were  on  the  raft  waiting 
to  see  the  Harvard  come  in :  and  we  made  that  little 
distance  with  a  rush,  both  boats  being  pretty  near 
together,  and  never  letting  up  in  the  least,  till  we  were 
almost  under  the  boat-house.  You  never  saw  six  hap- 
pier Freshmen  than  we  were,  when  we  came  to  realise 


172 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


what  we  liad  accomplished.  There  was  no  one  in 
either  boat  but  expected  that  we  should  be  shaken  off 
after  the  first  mile  or  so  ;  and  Villiers  says  hanging  on 
to  them  as  we  did,  four  miles  and  a  half,  is  a  great 
victory.  Smith  would  have  it  that  they  had  been  play- 
ing off,  but  they  seemed  well  blown  ;  and  Wilkinson 
told  Tom  that,  for  one,  he  did  all  he  knew,  and  that 
the  Harvards  were  not  half  up  to  their  work. 

'•''Saturday^  June  16.  —  We  have  pulled  our  first 
race !  The  morning  was  beautiful  as  only  a  June 
morning  can  be.  We  took  the  shell  down  to  Bra- 
man's  last  evening ;  and  so  the  time  hung  heavily  on 
our  hands  during  the  forenoon.  A  bulletin  which 
attracted  general  attention  was  posted  at  the  college 
bookstore  in  the  square,  as  follows  :  — 

"*HAEYARD  REGATTA! 

**  *  The  Annual  Harvard  Regatta  will  take  place 
on  the  Charles  River  course  this  afternoon  at  three 
o'clock,  wind  and  weather  permitting.  Four  crews 
will  pull,  —  the  Junior,  Sophomore,  Freshman,  and 
Scientific' 

"  We  dined  together  at  noon,  on  the  usual  leg  of 
roast  mutton,  rare,  juicy,  and  tender,  potatoes,  spinach, 
ale  ;  and,  for  dessert,  oatmeal  mush.  I  think  we  were 
none  of  us  hungry ;  and  it  was  a  silent  meal,  even 
Longstreet  for  once  appearing  thoughtful  and  quiet.  I 
ate  what  I  did,  purely  from  principle ;  for  there  was  a 
queer  sensation  at  the  bottom  of  my  stomach,  which 
took  away  all  desire  for  food. 

"At  half-past  two  the  scene  at  Braman's  was  a 
stirring  one.    The  crews  were  all  there,  wearing  their 


IN  A  "SIX-OAR.'' 


173 


colors,  and  had  the  boats  out  of  water,  cleaning  and 
oiling  them.  As  our  boat  had  been  put  in  perfect  o]  der, 
we  were  the  first  to  launch  and  put  out  for  a  little  pull , 
and  it  was  a  comfort  to  grasp  the  oar-handle.  The 
rafts  were  crowded  with  students,  —  backers  of  their 
class  boats ;  and  the  cheers  of  our  friends  rang  out  as 
we  darted  awa}'.  Then  came  the  drawing  for  positions. 
We  had  hoped  to  get  the  inside  ;  but  the  Sophomores 
drew  the  first  choice,  the  Juniors  the  second,  the  Scien 
tific  crew  the  third,  and  we  had  to  take  the  outside. 

"  Meantime  the  course  had  been  cleared,  the  judges 
were  at  their  post  near  the  upper  stake,  the  starter, 
judges,  and  referee  were  on  board  the  barge ;  the  rafts, 
platforms,  and  roofs  of  the  boat-houses  at  Braman's 
were  black  with  the  crowd ;  the  windows  bright  with 
ladies'  dresses ;  the  river  wall,  and  sheds  of  the  Beacon- 
street  houses,  were  densely  packed  half  a  mile  up 
stream.    It  was  an  exciting  scene. 

"  Bang  went  a  gun  from  the  barge,  the  signal  for  us 
to  come  into  line ;  and  as  we  pulled  up  to  take  our 
position  we  got  nine  cheers,  though  the  boats  were  all 
greeted  in  the  same  way.  We  came  into  line  as  well 
as  we  could,  and  lay  on  our  oars.  This  waiting  was 
the  hardest  part  of  all.  If  we  could  only  have  pulled 
away  at  once  !  I  suppose  it  was  only  a  few  moments, 
but  it  seemed  an  age.  I  felt  something  pressing  against 
my  chest,  and  I  could  hardly  breathe.  '  Remember, 
boys,'  whispered  Smith,  '  don't  look  around  !  See  the 
boats  behind  you,  if  you  see  them  at  all,  and  be  jaire 
and  don't  miss  on  the  start ;  two  short  strokes  all  to- 
gether, and  then  the  long.' 

" '  Up  a  little,  Freshmen  ! '    '  Back,  Juniors  ! '  called 


174 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


out  Wilkinson ;  and  now  the  line  seemed  to  suit  himi 
'  Are  you  ready  ? '  rang  out  in  clear  tones  across  the 
water.  There  is  a  hush  in  the  crowd,  which  every  one 
can  feel ;  we  stretch  forward :  '  Go  ! '  and  twenty-four 
oars  dash  the  water.  At  the  sound  there  is  a  great 
cheering  and  clapping  of  hands  from  the  shore.  I  look 
at  Lewis's  back,  and  pull ;  and  almost  immediately 
Smith  says,  '  D — n  !  hold  her,  boys  ! '  We  were  half  a 
length  ahead.  The  bow  oar  in  the  Scientific  boat  lost 
his  head,  steered  wild,  and  fouled  the  Juniors  ;  and  we 
had  to  go  back,  and  try  a  fresh  start. 

"  This  time  I  did  not  feel  the  least  nervous,  but 
enjoyed  the  situation  and  the  excitement.  Soon  we 
saw  the  Scientific  boat  behind  us ;  and  then  came 
a  glimpse  of  the  Sophomores,  hugging  the  wall  for 
smooth  water;  and  as  we  draw  up  to  the  stake  it 
appears  that  we  have  the  right  to  turn  before  the 
Juniors.  '  We've  got  'em  ! '  says  Smith ;  '  don't  hurry, 
boys  ;  they  can't  do  any  thing  till  we  get  around !  But 
what  with  the  sun  in  his  eyes,  and  the  glare  of  the  sun 
on  the  water.  Smith  couldn't  see  the  stake;  and  we 
shot  past,  leaving  room  for  the  Juniors  to  come  up  and 
turn  inside  of  us,  which  they  did  as  neatly  as  could  be, 
and  then  dashed  off  down  the  home  stretch,  the  stroke 
kissing  his  hand  by  way  of  good-by.  Nobody  said  a 
word ;  but  there  was  a  determination  to  make  up  the 
loss  if  it  were  a  possible  thing.  I  saw  the  other  boats 
draw  up  to  the  stake,  and  turn  ;  and,  as  the  distance 
between  us  grew  wider,  the  sunlight  seemed  to  wrap 
them  in  a  gold  and  purple  halo,  most  dazzling.  After 
a  time  I  could  hear  the  swash  of  oars  on  the  right. 
The  temptation  to  look  was  irresistible.    '  Eyes  in  the 


IN  A  "SIX-OAR." 


175 


boat,'  said  Smith,  coolly.  '  Steady  !  don't  spurt  till  I 
give  the  word ;  we  are  doing  well  enough.'  So  we 
pulled  on,  and  again  I  watched  the  muscles  on  Lewis's 
back ;  and  soon  the  swash  of  the  Juniors'  oars  grew 
more  distinct,  and  presently  I  could  see  a  little  bit  of 
the  rudder  by  turning  my  eyes,  and  then  the  stroke- 
oar,  and  it  was  plain  that  inch  by  inch  we  had  come  up 
with  them. 

"  But  we  were  getting  home  :  the  crowd  had  caught 
sight  of  us,  and  the  roar  of  the  clapping  of  many 
hands,  and  excited  shouting,  comes  over  the  water  to 
us.  '  iSTow,  boys,  shake  them  off ;  hit  her  up,  Tom ! ' 
shouted  Smith,  though  Tom  had  quickened  almost  be- 
fore the  word,  and  for  me,  as  soon  as  I  heard  that  noise 
from  the  shore,  I  felt  as  fresh  as  if  I  had  just  stepped 
into  the  boat ;  but  we  had  barely  pulled  half  a  dozen 
strokes  at  this  tremendous  pace,  when  there  was  a 
crack,  and  Lewis's  oar  snapped  at  the  rowlock.  So  we 
lost  the  race,  though  twice  it  v/as  ours ;  for  we  were 
ahead  of  them  at  the  stake,  and  had  passed  them  at 
the  time  of  the  accident. 

"  We  had  a  rousing  reception ;  for  we  were  only  just 
behind  the  winning  boat ;  and  the  boys  on  the  raft 
didn't  know  what  had  happened  till  Lewis  held  up  the 
broken  oar,  when  there  was  the  wildest  time  I  ever  saw. 
They  wanted  us  to  challenge  the  Juniors  to  pull  the 
race  over  again.  But  Smith  said  No,  it  was  all  right  as 
it  was ;  he  wasn't  going  to  have  us  pull  another  race 
till  we  got  to  Worcester.  And  though  it  is  a  disap- 
pointment not  to  beat  them  if  we  can,  I  suppose  the 
decision  is  a  wise  one." 


176 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


Less  than  three  weeks  remained  before  the  Fresh- 
men annuals  began,  those  justly  dreaded  examinations, 
to  most  students  the  hardest  trials  of  a  hard  year's 
work ;  and  it  was  with  no  very  pleasant  anticipations 
that  Sam  realized,  now  that  the  excitement  of  the 
regatta  was  over,  how  much  he  must  do  if  he  expected 
to  make  a  fair  showing  of  the  year's  work. 

He  proposed  to  his  chum  that  they  should  go  over 
the  work  together  ;  but  Huntingdon  laughed  at  him. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said,  sarcastically ;  "  but  I  am  not 
going  to  wade  through  all  that  stuff,  annuals  or  no 
annuals.  It  is  altogether  too  hot  to  study ;  and  I  be- 
lieve I  know  it  well  enough.  Let  it  go,  chum.  What 
difference  can  it  make  to  you?  " 

At  this  Sam  felt  blue,  in  spite  of  himself.  "  Let  it 
go  ?  "  To  be  sure,  he  could  do  that ;  but  he  felt  that 
he  had  not  come  to  college  entirely  to  pull  a  boat :  it 
would  hardly  be  honest  not  to  make  an  effort.  While 
he  was  thinking  over  these  matters,  a  kindly  hand 
was  laid  on  his  shoulder;  and  looking  up  he  saw 
Villiers. 

"  You  haven't  read  up  any  thing  yet  for  the  annuals?" 
said  he,  with  his  earnest  manner. 

"  Not  a  line,"  Sam  replied,  gloomily. 

"  Neither  have  I.  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  like 
to  go  over  it  with  me,  and  so  put  it  off.  Come,  let  us 
begin  this  very  evening." 

Sam's  face  flushed ;  and  for  an  instant  his  eye  grew 
moist.  "  No,  Villiers,  that  is  too  much.  I  have  only 
ponied  out  a  little  days  when  I  expected  to  be  called 
up ;  and  I  couldn't  think  of  riding  in  on  your  honest 


IN  A  "  SIX-OAE." 


177 


old  shoulders  in  any  such  way  as  that.  Ko  :  you  are 
just  the  best  fellow  that  ever  lived,  to  propose  such  a 
thing ;  but  I  will  dig  through  it  myself  the  best  I  can." 
And,  true  to  his  resolution,  the  young  fellow  went  to 
work  with  a  will.  In  this  warm  weather,  he  would 
strip  to  it  as  for  a  pull,  and  was  up  early  and  late, 
devoting  to  study  CA-ery  minute  he  could  command,  and 
taxing  his  strength  very  severely ;  for  the  boat  still  took 
a  large  share  of  his  time.  His  round  face  grew  thin 
and  worn,  and  he  looked  haggard  enough. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Fourth  of  July,  as  he  was 
crossing  the  square,  he  encountered  Mr.  BuUard,  the 
tutor  in  mathematics  ;  and  they  walked  on  together. 
Mr.  Bullard,  one  of  the  most  diffident,  but  also  one  of 
the  most  gentlemanly,  men  in  the  world,  remarked  that 
it  had  been  a  very  pleasant  day ;  to  which  Sam  replied, 
"  Yes,  it  has  been." 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  kindly  instructor  (since  a  membei 
of  Congress,  and  honored  by  a  large  constituency), 
noticing  the  worn  appearance  of  the  young  man,  "that 
you  have  improved  it  otherwise  than  by  passing  it  in 
your  room." 

Sam  smiled.  "  You  know  it  is  the  mathematical 
annual  to-morrow.  I  went  at  it  this  morning,  and  have 
been  over  every  thing  the  class  has  done  this  year ;  and 
I  believe  I  understand  it  too." 

Mr.  BuUard's  looks  betokened  the  surprise  and  sorrow 
that  his  words  would  fain  have  expressed,  if  he  had 
found  any  words  at  command.  Some  intimation  of  the 
great  effort  the  generally  favorite  young  Freshman  was 
making  must  have  come  to  the  apprehension  of  the 


178 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


college  officials,  and  influenced,  if  unconsciously,  their 
reports  of  Ms  work  at  the  annuals;  for,  though  but 
indifferently  prepared,  he  passed  them  without  a  condi* 
tion. 


XII. 


AT  QUIKSIGAMOND. 

The  two  crews,  the  Freshman  and  the  Harvaid,  who 
were  to  contest  the  championship  with  Yale,  went  to 
Worcester  at  once  after  the  annuals,  and,  taking  up 
their  quarters  on  the  lake,  went  into  training  for  the 
"  grand  inter-collegiate  regatta." 

In  the  very  midst  of  Quinsigamond,  there  was  a  large 
island,  connected  by  a  causeway  with  the  shore,  upon 
which  a  new  hotel  had  been  built,  that  offered  pleasant 
and  commodious  quarters  for  guests.  Sam  at  once 
secured  apartments  for  his  mother  and  sister,  and  wrote 
home  a  glowing  account  of  the  attractions  which  the 
spot  presented,  and  an  earnest  appeal  for  them  to  come 
and  stay  till  after  the  regatta.  Kate  was  wild  with 
delight  and  enthusiasm  at  the  suggestion.  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  was  well  pleased ;  and,  a  week  before  the  eventful 
day,  quite  a  party  of  our  friends  had  assembled  at  this 
sylvan  retreat.  It  comprised  Mrs.  Wentworth  and 
Kate ;  Villiers,  who,  deeply  interested  in  the  result  of 
the  contest,  was  studying  the  problem  with  his  wonted 
thorough  diligence ;  Miss  Eldredge  ;  and,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Will  Adams,  who  was  never  far  away  from 
her.  Huntingdon  had  his  headquarters  at  the  "  Bay 
State,"  in  the  city  hard  by,  but  was  constantly  going 

179 


180 


STUDENT-JLIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


back  and  forth  between  the  hotels.  One  day  a  Miss 
Eose  Thorne  came  from  the  city,  where  she  was  on  a 
visit  to  a  friend,  to  call  on  Miss  Eldredge ;  and  as  it 
proved  that  Mrs.  Thorne  and  Mrs.  Wentworth  had  been 
schoolmates  and  very  dear  friends,  a  warm  and  intimate 
friendship  immediately  grew  up  between  their  daugh- 
ters. Thus  a  most  acceptable  addition  was  made  to 
the  party;  for  Miss  Thorne,  "a  most  charming  girl," 
as  everybody  declared,  presently  came  over  to  the  lake 
to  stay. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Sam's  quarters  were  with 
those  of  the  crew,  at  a  farmhouse  near  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  lake.  The  Harvard  men  were  domiciled 
a  little  farther  on.  Not  far  away,  on  the  edge  of  the 
water,  were  the  boat-houses,  rougher  if  possible  than 
those  at  Cambridge.  The  Yale  crews  were  on  the 
opposite  shore. 

Sam's  delight  at  meeting  his  mother  and  sister  was 
not  greater  than  their  surprise  at  sight  of  him.  Three 
months'  constant  exposure  to  the  weather,  without  ever 
losing  sight  of  the  determination  of  getting  as  many 
sunburns  as  possible,  had  made  him  many  shades  darker 
than  his  natural  complexion.  His  curling  brown  hair 
had  been  cut  close,  "  filed,"  to  use  a  technical  expres- 
sion. His  hands  had  grown  one  or  two  sizes  larger  than 
of  old.  "  I  am  sure  that  was  altogether  unnecessary, 
sir,"  said  Kate ;  "  besides,  they  are  as  brown  and  hard 
as  leather.  I  have  almost  a  mind  to  cry.  You  don't 
look  at  all  as  you  used  to.  —  Does  lie,  mamma?" 

There  was  no  denying  that  his  shoulders  had  grown 
wonderfully  broad,  and  that  his  whole  form  had  a 
bewitching  manliness.     As  Kate  took  his  arm  witfi 


AT  QUmSIGAINIOXD. 


181 


both  hands,  an  old  habit  of  hers,  she  i.ttered  a  little  cry 
of  surprise.  "  It  is  wonderful,"  said  she  as  Sam  drew 
up  his  biceps  into  a  knotty  lump,  and  submitted  it  to 
her  admiring  touch ;  "so  hard  that  I  can't  even  pinch 
it." 

The  ladies  found  the  hotel  delightful  in  the  extreme. 
They  lived  in  the  very  midst  of  rustling  woods  and 
limpid  waters.  There  were  charming  walks  and  scram- 
bles through  the  woods  around  the  lake ;  beautiful 
drives,  of  a  morning,  when  nature  is  the  freshest,  out 
into  the  surrounding  country;  boating  and  bathing  to 
the  heart's  content ;  while  the  fact  that  the  little  com- 
pany grew  daily  larger,  as  the  week  wore  away,  made 
the  delights  of  the  occasion  constantly  increase. 

If  Sam  made  but  an  indifferent  escort  for  the  ladies 
at  this  time,  not  showing  himself  for  twenty-four  hours 
together,  as  was  sometimes  the  case,  he  had  provided  a 
most  efficient  substitute  in  the  person  of  Villiers.  "  I 
know  he  will  be  glad  to  take  care  of  you,"  he  said,  by 
way  of  silencing  Kate's  remonstrances  at  the  proposed 
change ;  and  Yilliers,  for  whom  the  sun  seemed  to  shine 
brighter  since  the  arrival  of  his  mistress,  could  not 
deny  the  soft  impeachment.  "  I  want  to  introduce  you 
to  ]Miss  Thorne :  you  don't  know  how  nice  she  is,"  Kate 
said  to  her  brother  more  than  once.  "You  can  surely 
spare  a  half-hour." 

"  You  shall  have  my  most  devoted  attention  as  soon 
as  I  am  free  once  more,"  was  his  invariable  reply,  "but 
at  present  I  am  Smith's  man,  and  belong  to  him." 

Friends  of  Yale  and  friends  of  Harvard  thronged  the 
hotel  as  the  day  drew  near ;  and  among  the  young  ladies 
particularly,  party  spirit  ran  high.   Their  favorite  colors 


182 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


were  everywhere  displayed ;  and  it  was  the  magenta  ol 
the  blue  that  adorned  the  tresses  or  decked  their  attire. 

A  boat-full  of  our  friends  were  out  on  the  lake  of  an 
evening,  floating  in  the  moonlight,  Kate  presiding  at  the 
oars. 

"  I  declare,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  on  Friday  I  mean 
to  make  myself  look  as  much  like  a  cherry  as  possible. 
I  hope  you  will  appreciate  the  sacrifice,  Sam,  for  it  is  a 
horribly  unbecoming  color." 

Sam  (a  little  glum).  —  It  is  likely  enough  you 
will  need  to  provide  a  suit  of  mourning  for  your  dead 
hopes,  —  "the  trappings  and  the  suits  of  woe,"  as  it  is 
written.  For  one,  I  don't  feel  in  the  least  sure  that  we 
are  not  going  to  be  regularly  cleaned  out  this  year. 
Those  Yale  men  are  giants  in  a  small  way :  they  have 
had  a  professional  trainer  from  New  York,  and  have 
trained  to  pull  five  miles  instead  of  three,  and  spurt  all 
the  way. 

There  was  a  silence  at  this  most  unexpected  state- 
ment. 

Villiers.  —  If  you  mean  your  own  crew,  Sam,  you  are 
too  modest  by  half.  It  is  treasonable  to  say  so,  I  know ; 
but  I  have  no  doubt  myself  that  the  Harvard  will  be 
beaten.  They  are  not  half  up  to  their  work,  and  Wil- 
kinson says  so  himself.  The  Yale  University,  as  Sam 
says,  are  the  most  powerful  set  of  men  I  ever  saw 
together. 

Miss  Eldredge,  —  O  Mr.  Villiers,  what  sentiments ! 
Ah,  you  are  trying  to  frighten  us.  The  Harvard  beaten ! 
why,  what  an  idea !  It  hasn't  happened  since  I  can 
remember. 

Adams,  —  At  all  events,  the  betting  is  two  to  one 
in  their  favor. 


AT  QUINSIGAMOND. 


183 


Huntingdon.  —  Pshaw  !  the  thing  is  almost  beyond  a 
possibility !  Those  Yale  fellows  are  big  enough,  there  is 
no  denying  that ;  but  they  don't  know  the  first  thing 
about  rowing.  Look  at  them  any  time,  and  see  how 
they  bend  their  backs  and  arms,  and  jerk  at  every 
stroke. 

Sam  (laughing  a  little  sarcastically).  —Yes,  but  they 
all  jerk  together  most  admirably,  and  the  boat  gets 
through  the  water  altogether  too  fast  to  suit  my  fancy. 

Kate.  —  Sam  must  have  the  blues  to-night.  He  has 
evidently  eaten  too  much  oatmeal  mush  for  tea.  The 
Harvard  must  beat,  of  course. 

Having  decided  this  vexed  question  to  her  satisfac- 
tion, she  turned  the  boat  to  a  spot  densely  shaded  with 
overhanging  trees. 

"  Everybody  will  be  surprised  and  disappointed  if 
they  do  not,"  said  Adams,  in  reply  to  her  last  remark. 

Sam  (after  a  pause,  splashing  the  water  with  his 
hand  as  the  boat  glided  gently  along).  —  Well,  I 
shall  be  sorry,  but  not  surprised.  I  was  thinking  of 
our  own  chances  when  I  first  spoke ;  but  without  a 
doubt  the  Yale  University  are  in  much  the  best  condi- 
tion. They  don't  pull  as  neat  and  finished  a  stroke  as 
Wilkinson's,  but  a  much  stronger  one. 

Again  there  is  a  silence,  broken  only  by  the  splashing 
of  the  water. 

Villiers.  —  There  is  no  doubt  that  our  men  have 
grown  lazy  and  careless,  and  imagine  that  the  successes 
of  former  years  will  serve  them  in  the  stead  of  hard 
work.  If  they  should  be  beaten,  perhaps  it  would  be  a 
blessing  in  disguise. 

Huntingdon  (quickly).  —  You  would  be  glad  to  see 


184 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


Yale  win !  that's  a  pious  sentiment,  Villiers,  and  one 
hardly  to  be  expected  from  a  Harvard  man  (and  there 
was  a  cry  of  "  O  Mr.  Villiers  I ") 

Villiers  (warmly).  —  I  want  to  see  the  best  men  win 
whoever  they  may  be,  and  — 

Kate  (who  has  propelled  the  boat  into  the  darkness, 
suddenly) .  —  There  !  nothing  can  be  nicer  than  this 
spot  on  a  hot  day.  The  trees  keep  out  every  ray  of 
sunlight,  and  there  is  a  cool  gray  twilight  even  at  noon. 
I  have  always  wanted  to  come  in  here  at  night,  but 
never  dared  to  do  so  alone. 

Sam,  —  Bah  !  it's  dark  enough. 

Kate,  —  Thanks,  somebody,  but  I  believe  I  am  warm 
enough  without  a  shawl. 

''Now  I  think  the  gentlemen  might  favor  us  with 
some  music,"  said  Miss  Eldredge ;  and  for  an  hour, 
while  the  boat  floated  gently  toward  the  landing,  the 
songs  of  the  merry  party  rang  out  over  the  still  waters, 
while  at  intervals  the  clapping  of  hands  on  the  shore 
told  of  more  than  one  appreciative  listener.  It  was  an 
hour  of  exquisite  happiness,  that  ended  but  too  quickly ; 
for  of  a  sudden  Sam  recollected  that  he  was  breaking 
regulations,  and  ought  to  have  been  abed  two  hours 
before.  So,  taking  the  paddles,  he  pulled  quickly  to  the 
shore. 

Strangely  enough.  Rose  Thorne  passed  that  evening 
in  the  city,  and  did  not  make  one  of  the  party.  Though 
it  was  the  evening  but  one  before  Friday,  she  and  Sam 
had  not  yet  met. 

Time  passed  with  the  crews  in  these  days  very  much 
as  when  they  were  training  at  Cambridge.    The  Yale 


AT  QUINSIGAMOND, 


185 


and  Harvard  men  avoided  each  other  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, and  there  was  no  attempt  at  testing  each  other's 
powers ;  and  the  crews  went  into  the  race  with  a  very 
wholesome  respect  for  their  opponents.  Oracles  enough 
there  were  among  the  partisans  of  both,  to  say  which 
were  the  better  men,  and  who  would  discourse  learnedly 
and  lengthily  to  any  listener  on  the  science  and  art  of 
pulling  a  boat.  But,  besides  these,  there  was  a  goodly 
number  of  the  knowing  ones  w^ho  made  a  careful  study 
of  the  entire  problem ;  sharp-witted  sporting  characters 
who  looked  carefully  at  every  man,  and  felt  of  any 
they  could,  as  if  he  were  a  favorite  horse  which  they 
were  going  to  back ;  in  short,  men  who  got  their  living, 
and  their  fortunes  too,  by  their  wits  as  shown  by  their 
judgment  in  making  bets,  and  who  hail  the  college 
regattas  as  contests  on  which  they  could  stake  their 
money  with  the  most  perfect  confidence  in  the  good 
faith  of  both  parties.  There  was  no  danger  of  a  sold  " 
race  here,  and  they  knew  it.  There  was,  as  the  event- 
ful day  drew  near,  a  goodly  number  of  these  gentlemen 
hanging  round  the  Harvard  and  Yale  boat-houses,  watch- 
ing their  chance  to  have  a  square  look  at  the  men,  or 
skulking  through  the  woods  and  bushes  to  waylay  a  crew 
and  catch  them  when  they  were  pulling  "  honest  injun," 
as  Tom  called  it,  away  up  at  the  other  end  of  the  lake ; 
and  thus  by  a  careful  and  systematic  espionage,  followed 
up  day  after  day,  and  an  estimate  of  the  comparative 
strength  or  weakness  of  the  opponents,  made  up  of 
trifles  perhaps,  but  of  trifles  indicating  material  points, 
they  would  conclude  whether  it  was  upon  Yale,  or 
Harvard,  that  their  money  should  be  w^agered.  The 
conclusion  being  once  established,  they  went  about 


186 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


in  quest  of  victims,  who  were  to  be  found  in  abun- 
dance. 

The  eve  of  the  long-expected  day  arrived,  —  Thurs- 
day night.  The  hotels  at  the  city  and  lake  were 
already  overflowing  with  guests,  and  thousands  were 
to  come  on  the  morrow.  This  night  the  Glee  Club  and 
Pierian  Sodality  gave  a  concert ;  and  on  the  evening 
after  the  races  there  was  to  be  the  regatta  ball.  Sam 
could  not  attend  the  concert,  for  he  must  needs  go  to 
bed,  — to  sleep  if  may  be,  but  to  bed  at  all  events,  and 
betimes,  - —  to  get  all  the  rest  possible,  as  Smith  has 
decreed.  But  the  ladies  under  the  escort  of  Villiers 
and  Huntingdon  assisted  at  the  musical  feast. 

Crowds  of  students  had  been  down  to  the  lake  in 
the  afternoon,  to  see  the  crews.  "  Hi  1  Wentworth," 
"  How  are  you.  Smith  ? "  "  How  are  you,  Tom  ? 
and  Lewis,  old  bo}^ !  "  and  Lyman  and  Longstreet  and 
Haskill,  forgetful  of  the  dignity  which  becomes  a  full- 
fledged  Senior,  dashed  down  the  steep  bank  to  the 
boat-house,  and  were  received  with  a  shout  of  welcome, 
and  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand. 

"  Going  to  clean  'em  out  to-morrow,  Tom  ?  "  said 
Longstreet,  eagerly. 

Tom  shook  his  head,  and  said  he  didn't  know ;  but 
looked  very  happy  all  the  time,  as  though  he  considered 
victory  not  the  most  improbable  event. 

"  You  had  better,"  said  Haskill  to  Sam,  wagging  his 
head.  "  Look  here  young  man,  I've  got  three  himdred 
and  seventy-five  dollars  up  on  your  boat,  odds  three 
to  one,  you  know "  (confidentially) ;  "  and  I  rather 
think  that,  if  I  lose  that,  my  marm  won't  get  her  last 
term's  board-bill  in  a  hurry,  and  the  steward  will  have 


AT  QUINSIGAMOND. 


187 


to  come  down  on  my  bond  for  his  bill,  and  I  shall 
have  to  lay  mighty  low  this  summer,  for  I  couldn't 
think  of  striking  the  old  gent  for  any  thing  more  this 
year,"  and  the  inevitable  meerschaum  came  out ;  "  but 
if  you  win  —  hi !  —  I  bet  you  will." 

"  How  much  have  you  got  on  the  Harvard  ?  "  queried 
Sam,  innocently. 

The  only  reply  which  the  reverend  Senior  vouchsafed 
to  this  interrogatory  was  to  wink  one  eye  curiously, 
and  thrust  his  tongue  into  his  cheek  in  a  knowing  man- 
ner. "  Oh !  they're  lazy  devils.  I'm  afraid !  I'm 
afraid  ! "  and  he  shook  his  head. 

"  Going  to  pull  in  the  morning.  Smith  ?  "  said 
Lyman. 

"  Yes,  we  are  going  out  for  a  paddle  at  nine,  just  to 
get  limbered  up,"  and  he  locked  the  boat-house ;  and, 
escorted  by  their  friends,  the  crew  moved  off  to  the 
farmhouse  for  supper,  and  then  went  to  bed. 

After  the  concert,  a  gay  and  brilliant  assembly,  the 
Yale  and  Harvard  partisans  crowded  into  the  halls  of 
the  Bay  State ;  and  for  two  hours  a  dense  and  noisy 
throng  held  possession  of  that  hospitable  inn.  Green 
Freshmen  just  admitted,  professional  boating  and  sport- 
ing men  from  New  York  and  other  cities,  undergradu- 
ates of  both  colleges,  and  many  who  return  with  inter- 
est to  this  scene  of  their  former  triumphs  or  defeats, 
surged  hither  and  thither  in  wild  and  riotous  confusion. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Josh  Ward  !  "  called  a  voice;  and 
they  were  given  with  a  will  as  the  stalwart  boatman, 
the  referee  in  the  morrow's  races,  elbowed  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  In  the  centre  of  the  hall  an  eager 
and  excited  group  had  gathered  around  a  well-known 


188 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


boating-man,  and  listened  intently  for  any  hint  that  might 
throw  light  on  the  event  of  the  morrow.  Everywhere 
bets  were  freely  given  and  taken  ;  generally  two  to  one 
in  favor  of  Harvard,  and  against  the  Harvard  Fresh- 
men. A  red-faced  man  with  an  immense  black  mous- 
tache red  at  tlio  roots,  and  a  swaggering  manner,  was 
trying  to  get  odds  against  the  Yale  Freshmen  ;  and  was 
betting  upon  Yale  generally  to  a  large  amount. 

Suddenly  up  Jumped  a  little  fellow  onto  a  chair. 
"  Two  to  one  that  the  Harvard  Freshmen's  time  beats 
the  Yale  University's  to-morrow;"  and,  as  a  silence 
ensued  upon  so  startling  a  proposition,  he  repeated  it  in 
a  loud  voice,  and  looked  defiantly  around.  Surely  it 
was  no  other  than  our  friend  Longstreet.  There  was 
loud  applause  from  the  wearers  of  the  magenta,  mingled 
with  groans  from  those  who  sported  the  blue;  and  a 
dozen  pressed  forward,  to  take  the  bet.  "  How  much  ?  " 
shouted  he  of  the  moustache,  waving  his  hat.  "  What- 
ever you  please,"  replied  Longstreet,  coolly.  "  One 
thousand?"  —  "Yes,  five  if  you  like;"  for  Adams, 
standing  by,  told  Longstreet  not  to  stand  for  trifles. 
"  Well,  a  thousand  will  do,"  said  the  red-faced  man  ;  at 
which  there  were  cheers  mingled  with  jeers  from  the 
Harvard  backers.  As  it  grew  later  the  tumult  and  con- 
fusion increased ;  and  by  midnight  license  reigned  su- 
preme. Woe  to  the  wretched  guests  of  the  hotel  who 
were  courting  the  drowsy  god  that  hot  summer  night ! 
At  last,  however,  the  uproar  died  away,  and  silence 
reigned  throughout  the  empty  corridors. 

Our  Freshmen  met  on  the  shores  of  the  lake  for 
their  customary  bath,  that  bright,  clear  Friday  morning ; 
and  a  tough,  plucky-looking  set  of  men  they  were  as 


AT  QUINSIGAMOND. 


189 


tliey  came  up  dripping  out  of  the  water.  The  sun- 
browned  muscles  of  back,  chest,  and  arm,  stood  out  in 
beautiful  sj-mmetrical  development,  as  the  body  played 
into  a  hundred  attitudes  of  grace  and  power,  while  they 
were  rubbing  themselves  down.  There  had  been  no 
shirking  in  this  boat ;  Freshman-like  they  had  done 
their  work  honestly  and  earnestly.  The  Harvard  crew 
were  a  bigger  set  of  men,  larger  of  arm  and  heavier  of 
weight ;  but  it  was  easy  to  perceive  that  there  was  a 
surplus  of  flesh.  One  man  had  the  unenviable  reputa- 
tion of  not  being  able  to  pull  his  own  weight.  It  was 
the  glory  won  by  their  predecessors  in  years  gone  by 
reflected  upon  them,  rather  than  any  exertion  of  their 
own,  that  made  them  the  general  favorites. 

All  the  morning,  trains  of  cars  had  been  pouring 
thousands  of  people  into  the  city;  and,  after  such  a 
dinner  as  could  be  procured,  there  was  a  general  exodus 
for  the  lake,  some  three  miles  away.  Lines  of  car- 
riages a  mile  long,  or  more  properly  an  uninterrupted 
procession  of  vehicles  of  every  description,  reaching 
the  entire  distance,  and  accommodation-trains  with  two 
engines  plying  back  and  forth,  served  to  convey  twenty 
or  thirt}^  thousand  people  to  the  scene  of  the  contest. 
Seats  for  the  spectators  had  been  erected  on  Regatta 
Point,  which  afforded  a  fine  view  of  the  start,  and  the 
lower  mile  of  the  course.  Westward,  a  little  distance 
up  the  lake,  a  wooded  point  jutting  far  out  into  the 
water  cut  off  the  turning-stake  and  the  upper  judge's 
boat  from  view. 

The  hour  drew  near.  The  roof,  windows,  and  piazza 
of  the  hotel  were  crowded  with  an  eager  and  gayly 
dressed  throng.    The  causeway  leading  to  the  island 


190 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


was  dense  with  humanity ;  the  shores  of  the  lake,  way 
around  to  the  north  and  west,  were  lined  with  people ; 
while  on  Regatta  Point  every  available  foot  of  ground 
was  covered  with  excited  spectators.  Every  boat  and 
craft  of  any  description  that  could  be  mustered  was 
brought  into  requisition;  and  a  little  steamer  with 
crowded  decks,  and  decked  with  gay  bunting,  plied  up 
and  down  the  lake.  It  was  a  beautiful  and  inspiriting 
scene  set  in  with  the  blue  heavens,  waving  woods,  and 
bright  glancing  waters,  which  the  soft  west  wind  just 
rippled,  and  then,  rustling  the  leafy  verdure,  came  most 
grateful  to  the  dense,  gayly  dressed,  and  excited  crowd. 

A  gun  boomed,  and  half  a  dozen  wherries  came  into 
line ;  another,  and  they  darted  away  up  the  lake  ;  but 
they  were  barely  noticed  as  they  passed  the  point.  All 
these  people  had  not  assembled  to  see  a  wherry-race ; 
and,  as  the  time  drew  speedily  near,  they  were  too  rest- 
less and  excited  to  be  interested  by  any  such  insignifi- 
cant affair.  Now  the  liveliest  impatience  was  manifested 
on  all  sides ;  the  wherries  had  returned,  and  the  Fresh- 
man boats  ought  to  have  been  on  hand  by  that  time. 
Crowds  of  excited  Yale  and  Harvard  men  rushed 
hither  and  thither,  jumping  over  benches,  elbowing, 
gesticulating,  shouting,  giving  and  taking  bets,  hot, 
dusty,  weary,  but  thoroughly  aroused  ;  and  the  blue  or 
the  magenta  was  everywhere  displayed. 

"  Rah  !  Rah  I  Rah !  *'  the  well-known  Harvard  cheer 
rang  out,  and  there  was  great  clapping  of  hands ;  and 
presently  a  well-known  Harvard  Senior  was  seen  with 
half  a  dozen  little  red  rubber  balloons  tied  to  his  button- 
hole, tugging  at  the  string,  and  eager  to  break  away. 
He  proposed  to  let  them  fly  when  the  Harvard  should 


AT  QUINSIGAMOND. 


191 


come  in  victorious.  The  red-faced  man  with  his  enor 
mous  black  moustache,  who  was  so  prominent  at  the 
Bay  State  the  previous  evening,  darted  around  with  his 
hand  full  of  greenbacks,  offering  odds  on  the  Yale  boats ; 
not  in  vain,  for  there  were  plenty  of  enthusiastic 
Harvard  men  to  take  his  bets. 

Mrs.  Wentworth's  party  occupied  some  of  the  best 
seats  on  the  point,  nor  did  they  escape  the  universal 
excitement  and  enthusiasm. 

"  Nobody  seems  to  bet  on  Sam's  crew :  they're  all 
betting  on  the  Harvard,"  said  Kate,  indignantly. 

"  Make  an  exception  in  my  case,  Miss  Wentworth," 
replied' Adams ;  "  I  have  a  thousand  dollars  at  stake  on 
them.  Longstreet  put  it  up  last  night  at  the  Bay  State, 
against  that  red-faced  man  there.  His  bets  must 
amount  to  many  thousand  dollars." 

"  A  thousand  dollars !  "  said  Kate,  opening  her  blue 
eyes  to  their  widest  extent.  "  It  was  very  wrong,  Mr. 
Adams." 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  Miss  Wentworth,"  replied  Adams, 
flushing  a  little,  "  I  believe  neither  of  us  knew  what  we 
were  doing  any  too  well." 

"  There  come  the  Freshman  boats  under  the  cause- 
way ! "  exclaimed  Villiers,  who  had  been  looking 
through  his  glass  in  that  direction. 

"  Oh,  dear  I  "  said  Kate,  in  a  flutter;  "  which  is  our 
crew,  Mr.  Villiers?  I  declare,  I  feel  frightened 
almost !  " 

"  The  one  this  way ;  you  can  see  their  red  handker- 
chiefs," said  Villiers,  as  he  adjusted  the  glass  for  her. 
"  Now  notice  the  difference  in  the  strokes  tJiey  pull : 
see  how  short  and  Jerky  that  of  Yale  is.    Now  see  what 


192 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


a  long,  even,  regular  sweep  those  red  handkerchiefs 
have.  I  believe  that  that  stroke  will  do  the  work  if 
our  men  win." 

The  report  of  a  gun  was  heard,  and  the  boats  were 
seen  pulling  away  from  the  judge's  barge.  "  They  are 
coming  up  into  line,"  said  Villiers.  "  Ah  !  Yale  has 
the  inside." 

"  Is  that  an  advantage  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"  It  may  be,"  is  Villiers's  reply.  "  If  the  race  should 
prove  a  close  one,  and  the  two  boats  should  reach  the 
stake  at  about  the  same  time,  Yale  would  have  the 
right  to  turn  first ;  but  it  is  not  often  that  they  are  so 
near  together  as  to  make  this  advantage  of  much  con- 
sequence when  there  are  only  two  boats." 

All  was  still  now;  and  the  vast  multitude  waited 
with  breathless  attention.  The  two  boats  were  in  line ; 
there  was  a  flash,  but  before  the  report  reached  the 
shore  it  was  drowned  in  the  roar  that  rose  from  thou- 
sands of  throats,  as  the  twelve  oars  caught  the  water, 
and  dashed  the  spray.  The  boats  were  off  together  up 
the  lake. 

There  was  silence  again  as  they  drew  near  the  point ; 
as  they  came  up,  Yale  was  seen  to  be  slightly  in  ad- 
vance ;  and  again  the  shout  went  up  with  redoubled 
power,  "  Yale  !  Yale  !  "  But  lo  1  as  they  came  abreast 
the  point,  and  that  mighty  uproar  reached  them,  right 
there,  in  the  sight  of  their  thousand  friends.  Harvard's 
r.troke  quickened,  and  the  boat  shot  ahead,  propelled 
by  a  single  resistless  impulse  ;  there  before  the  eyes  of 
all,  the  young  fellows  pulled  away  from  their  competi- 
tors, and  blue  water  gleamed  between  them. 

Then  what  a  roar,  and  clapping  of  hands  I 


AT  QrTN'SIGAMOND. 


193 


"  Thej  are  beating  I  said  Kate,  in  a  suppressed 
voice. 

"  I  should  think  they  were,"  rejoined  Huntingdon, 
who  had  just  joined  the  group.  "  They  pull  like  young 
giants.'' 

"  A  thousand  to  fire  hundred  the  Yale  Freshmen 
win,"  said  a  gruff  voice  at  Huntingdon's  elbow,  and 
turning^  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  that  most 
indefatisrable  backer  of  Yale. 

"  Put  up  your  money,  then  I  "  said  Huntingdon,  con- 
temptuously, "  if  you  have  so  much  to  throw  away ;  " 
and  the  twain  were  off  to  find  a  friend  to  hold  the 
stakes. 

Meantime  Villiers  had  been  following  the  course  of 
the  boats  with  his  glass.  Suddenly  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  vdiich  soimded  wonderfully  like  an  oath, 
and  his  lips  were  compressed  with  excitement. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed  both  Miss  Eldred^e 
and  Kate. 

"  Something  serious,  I  am  afraid,"  said  Villiers,  still 
looking  through  his  glass.  "  Our  men  have  stopped 
pulling." 

"The   1"  exclaimed  Adams,  springing  to  his 

feet. 

"  I  see  them  very  plainly,"  continued  Tilliers, 
"  and  they  are  sitting  quite  still ;  the  other  boat  is 
up  with  them ;  it  passes  —  ah  I  there  they  go,  hard  at 
it  again ;  Yale  won't  keep  the  lead  long  at  that  pace, 
I  fancy." 

"  V\"hat  can  have  been  the  matter?"  said  Miss  El- 
dredo'e. 

"  I  hope  none  of  the  young  men  have  given  out," 


194 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


said  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  It  must  be  very  hot  and  hard 
work,  I  should  think." 

For  the  next  twelve  minutes  or  more  there  was  a 
general  falling-off  of  conversation ;  watches  were  he- 
quently  consulted,  and  the  upper  end  of  the  lake  carefully 
scanned  with  the  glasses.  Every  one  passed  the  time 
as  best  he  might ;  but  it  was  too  anxious  a  time  for  talk 

Slowly  but  impressively  the  scene  changed.  Heavy 
masses  of  black  clouds  rolled  slowly  up,  and  their 
glittering  edge  gradually  obscured  the  sun;  the  light 
westerly  wind  died  away ;  the  surface  of  the  lake  lost 
its  blue  glitter,  became  a  mirror  of  polished  steel,  and 
then  turned  glossy  black.  Now  and  then  a  bird 
dashed  down,  and  scattered  the  spray  with  its  wings  ; 
anxious  farmers  ran  to  cock  and  cap  their  hay;  the 
thirsty  cornfields  drooped  expectant  of  the  shower. 
The  multitude  and  nature  were  still ;  it  was  time  for 
prudent  people  some  miles  from  home  to  think  of  secur- 
ing shelter. 

"  Harvard  !  Harvard  !  Harvard  !  "  came  resounding 
down  the  lake  ;  boats  and  wherries  glided  out  from 
behind  the  point,  and  in  an  instant  a  six-oar  darted 
into  view.  Then  the  cries  of  "  Yale  !  Yale  !  "  "  Plar- 
vard  !  Harvard  !  "  became  deafening. 

"  I  don't  see  the  Yale  boat,"  said  Villiers,  after  a 
careful  look.    "  They  must  be  a  long  way  behind." 

"  Are  you  sure  there  is  no  mistake  about  our  men 
being  ahead  ?  "  said  Kate,  pale  with  excitement. 

"  You  can  see  them  for  yourself.  Miss  Kate,"  said 
Huntingdon,  eagerly.  "There  is  no  mistaking  Tom's 
stroke.  If  I  don't  give  them  a  royal  supper  to-night !  " 
Soon  it  was  sure,  for  every  one  could  see  them  very 


AT  QUIXSIGAMOND. 


195 


well ;  and  the  clear,  sharp  "  Rah  !  Rah  !  Rah  !  "  of  the 
joj'ous  Harvard  Freshmen,  rang  out  above  the  clapping 
of  hands  and  the  roar  of  the  crowd.  There  they  went, 
spurting  on  the  home  stretch  with  that  reserve  power 
which  the  winter's  work  and  the  careful  training  had 
given  them,  coming  in  on  a  course  as  true  as  if  fur- 
rowed by  a  plough.  Away  over  on  the  other  side  of 
the  lake,  a  long  distance  behind,  were  the  blue  handker- 
chiefs, jerking  away,  and  looking  tired  and  dispirited, 
even  at  this  distance. 

Now  confusion  reigned.  The  Yale  men  were  sure 
there  must  be  some  good  reason  for  the  defeat,  that 
there  must  have  been  some  accident,  and  that  all  would 
yet  be  explained.  They  could  only  keep  quiet,  and 
bide  the  issue  of  the  next  contest.  But  the  Harvard 
Freshmen,  to  a  man,  and  all  their  friends,  and  tliose 
who  had  won  their  bets,  were  wild  witlr  excitement 
and  delight,  and  rushed  about  shouting,  shaking  hands, 
and  embracing.  Huntingdon  was  off  after  the  stake- 
holder and  his  thousand  dollars ;  and  Mrs.  Went  worth 
suggested  that  they  had  better  go  back  to  the  hotel,  as 
it  was  certainly  going  to  rain.  No,  there  had  been  no 
accident  or  mistake :  it  was  a  perfectly  fair  race,  fairly 
won ;  and  the  young  fellows  pulled  up  to  the  judge's 
boat,  and  received  the  silk  flags  and  the  silver  cup. 

As  the  University  crews  drew  up  into  position,  the 
excitement  reached  its  climax  for  the  crowd  at  large, 
if  not  for  our  particular  party.  A  Freshman  race  is, 
after  all,  of  but  little  consequence:  it  does  not  matter 
whether  you  lose  it  or  win  it,  provided  you  can  be  vic- 
torious in  that  contest  of  the  twelve  men  selected  from 
the  best  and  pluckiest  oarsmen  of  both  colleges.  Again 


196 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


the  flash  of  a  gun  was  seen,  again  the  report  T\  as 
lost  in  the  uproar,  and  again  tAvo  boats  were  off. 
They  passed  the  point,  Yale  leading  slightly,  but 
enough  to  inspire  hope  among  their  friends ;  they  drew 
ahead  too,  though  almost  imperceptibly ;  and  thus  lap- 
ping each  other,  and  with  mighty  efforts,  one  to  main- 
tain and  the  other  to  retrieve  the  vantage,  they  passed 
on,  and  the  point  cut  them,  off  from  view. 

"  Come,  mother ;  come,  Kate  !  "  exclaimed  Sam,  as 
bare-armed,  and  handkerchief  torn  off,  he  broke  away 
from  his  escort  of  jubilant  classmates, — who  cheered 
him,  and  shook  his  hands,  and  had  even  taken  him  on 
their  shoulders,  —  and  made  his  way  to  his  mother's 
party.  "  Come,  Villiers,  old  fellow,  let's  get  the  ladies 
home  :  it's  going  to  rain  in  less  than  no  time." 

There  had  been  a  glitter  in  the  girl's  eye,  and  a  flush 
on  her  cheek,  though  she  had  said  very  I'ttle.  "  O 
Sam  !  "  she  exclaimed,  catching  her  brother's  arm  with 
both  hands  ;  "  it  is  worth  being  a  man  for.  Go  ?  no. 
I  am  going  to  stay  here,  and  see  the  end  of  it.  It  v»^on't 
hurt  me,  I  think,  if  there  is  a  little  rain."  Her  mother 
retired,  however,  with  Yilliers. 

The  minutes  which  the  boats  are  up  the  lake  hidden 
from  view  passed  quicldy ;  for  Sam  was  the  centre  of 
an  admiring  throng  of  classmates  and  friends,  who 
pressed  forward,  and  offered  one  after  another  their  en- 
thusiastic congratulations.  The  threatening  shower 
held  off  beyond  expectations ;  but,  though  it  must  soon 
come,  no  one  in  the  multitude  seemed  to  flinch  from 
the  ordeal :  perhaps  it  would  now  be  impossible  to 
escape  a  drenching.  "  There  come  the  boats,"  some 
one  exclaimed ;  and  at  the  same  instant  the  drops  began 


AT  QUI^^SIGAMOXD. 


197 


to  fall,  and  the  descending  shovrer  cut  off  every  thing 
from  view.  Dovtl  it  came,  drenching  all  alike :  deli- 
cate ladies  with  their  gossamer  dresses,  and  exqnisitelj 
dressed  gentlemen,  were  alike  wet  to  the  skin;  then,  ceas- 
ing as  suddenly  as  it  began,  a  fair  view  of  the  two  boats 
was  given,  showing  Yale  well  in  advance.  For  once, 
and  almost  literally  for  once,  they  iiad  won,  and  great 
was  the  joy  among  the  wearers  of  the  blue  ;  but  our 
friends  did  not  care  to  witness  their  noisy  demonstra- 
tions, and  sought  shelter  with  all  possible  speed. 


XIII. 


THE  KEGATTA  BALL. 

"  We  had  a  soft  thing  on  those  Yale  Freshmen,  and 
no  mistake,"  said  Sam,  as  his  party,  well  drenched,  pro- 
ceeded on  their  way  to  the  hotel.  We  found  that  out 
very  soon.  Why,  as  soon  as  the  first  flurry  and  excite- 
ment was  over,  we  just  pulled  away  from  them  without 
any  trouble.  Then  Tom's  stretcher-support  gave  way, 
and  we  had  to  hold  up  until  he  could  shift  it  into 
another  groove.  It  wasn't  the  pleasantest  feeling  in 
the  world,  to  lay  by  on  our  oars,  and  see  them  come  up, 
pass,  and  pull  away  from  us  as  they  did ;  we  knew  that 
you  on  shore  would  be  watching,  and  wondering  what 
had  happened." 

"  Yes.  I  was  afraid,"  said  Kate,  "  that  something- 
might  have  happened  to  you." 

"  I  thought  of  course  some  one  of  you  must  have 
given  out,"  said  Villiers :  "  you  stopped  so  long,  ten  or 
fifteen  seconds,  I  should  think ;  and  I  could  see  that 
there  were  no  oars  broken.  It  was  a  relief  when  you 
went  at  it  again." 

"  Just  fifteen  seconds.  Smith  said,"  continued  Sam. 
"  As  soon  as  Tom's  stretcher  was  in  order,  it  was,  '  Give 
way  hard  :  don't  let  them  get  the  turn  ; '  and  we  didn't. 
We  turned  first,  and  led  them  a  long  way  on  the  home 

198 


THE  EEGATTA  BALL. 


199 


stretch.  You  saw,  of  course.  But,  by  Jove,  Villiers  I 
it's  a  bad  go  for  the  Haryard.  I  am  so  sorry  for  Wil- 
kinson. I  only  hope  that  there  may  be  some  explana- 
tions." 

The  party  was  plodding  on  through  the  rain  and 
mud,  jumping  over  puddles,  and  dodging  the  vehicles 
that  were  carrvino-  home  the  wet  and  satisfied  or  dis- 
appointed  spectators,  Kate  holding  fast  to  her  brother 
by  one  arm,  and  Villiers  by  the  otlier,  making  the  best 
of  their  way  to  the  hotel,  fortunately  but  a  short  dis- 
tance. The  crowd  was  streaming  off  toward  the  city, 
wet  and  bedraggled,  but  excited  and  enthusiastic  still. 
Here  was  a  confused  mass  of  exultant  Yale  boys,  shout- 
ing, shaking  hands,  embracmg ;  then  came  a  group  of 
young  ladies,  good-naturedly  making  the  best  of  their 
plight,  chattering  merrily,  and  niosily  maintaining  that 
their  favorites  were  the  best  men.  "  Have  a  little  bit 
of  blue,  Julia  ?  just  a  bit."  —  Xot  a  scrap  :  it  will  all 
come  out  right,  I  know  it  will ;  there  was  some  acci- 
dent."— ^Knots  of  quiet  tovmspeople  plodded  soberly  on 
towards  the  cars.  They  had  come  out  to  see  the  sport, 
caring  very  little  who  won  ;  but  concluding  that,  aftei 
al],  the  boys  who  come  in  ahead  are  the  boys  for  them. 

Ah,  there  comes  chum  !  "  said  Sam,  darting  forward. 
"  Where  in  the  world  have  you  been  all  this  time  ?  "  he 
asked,  as  Huntingdon  grasped  his  hand,  and  told  his 
chum,  in  his  own  gracions  way,  what  a  syjlendid  victory 
he  had  won  "for  the  class,  and  for  tlie  coUeo^e  too\ 
You  are  really  tlie  champions  ;  for  you  beat  tlie  Yale 
University  time  by  seven  seconds.    It  is  glorious  I  " 

Sam's  face  Hushed  with  honest  pride.  If  the  truth 
were  known,  lie  cared  more  for  his  chum's  approbation, 


200 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


his  real  hearty  admiration  and  praise,  than  for  that  of 
any  one  else.  He  had  been  wont  to  receive  it  from 
others,  but  not  from  Huntingdon ;  and  it  was  only  now 
that  his  glory  was  complete. 

"  See  here,"  said  Huntingdon,  showing  a  handful  of 
greenbacks,  "  I  won  all  this  out  of  that  red-faced,  prize- 
fighting New  York  'plug-ugly,'  that  backed  the  Yale 
boats  so  much,  —  a  cool  thousand  dollars.  I  should 
have  been  bankrupt  if  it  had  not  been  for  this  bet  on 
your  boat,  Sam  :  so  I  am  going  to  give  you  all  a  supper 
to-night  after  the  ball.  Tell  all  the  men  that  you  see 
to  be  at  the  Bay  State  by  ten." 

"  That  man  must  have  made  a  pile  of  money,"  said 
Adams,  "  though  I  shall  take  five  hundred  out  of  him 
on  the  Freshmen  time :  that  surely  is  as  a  brand  saved 
from  the  burning,  for  I  never  expected  to  see  any  part 
of  my  stakes  again,  to  say  nothing  of  his.  Let  me  join 
you,  Huntingdon,  in  the  spread  for  to-night." 

"  To  be  sure,"  replied  the  latter,  bowing  politely. 
"  They  say  that  Stifler — Stifler  his  name  is  —  won  over 
fourteen  thousand  dollars  on  the  University  race.  We 
thought  at  first  there  must  be  some  cause  for  the 
defeat,  —  a  foul,  or  a  broken  oar,  or  that  one  of  the  men 
might  have  been  sick ;  but  they  said  no,  it  was  all 
straight,  a  perfectly  fair  race,  and  hadn't  a  word  of 
excuse  to  offer.  Some  of  the  fellows  are  awfully  down 
on  them,  for  nearly  every  man  has  lost  something.  But 
I  must  leave  you,  and  make  arrangements  for  this 
evening;  "  and  lifting  his  hat  he  was  off. 

After  tea  Sam  and  Kate,  Villiers,  Miss  Eldredge,  and 
Adams,  drove  over  to  the  city  to  attend  the  ball ;  Miss 
Thorne  making  one  of  another  party.    Yale  and  Har- 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


201 


vard  were  both  out  in  force  ^Yitll  their  friends  and 
admirers.  Perhaps  it  was  fairer,  as  it  certainly  was 
j)leasanter,  to  have  the  honors  divided  as  they  had 
been.  The  men  from  all  the  crews  were  present,  and 
the  utmost  good  feeling  prevailed.  In  years  before, 
when  Harvard  had  been  uniformly  victorious,  this 
regatta  ball  had  been  a  very  one-sided  affair ;  but  to- 
night all  were  merry,  and  the  good  humor,  the  bright 
dresses,  and  the  inspiriting  music,  all  combined  to  make 
a  most  attractive  scene.  The  shower  of  the  afternoon 
had  cooled  the  air,  so  that  the  dancing,  which  had  com- 
menced before  the  arrival  of  the  Yv^entworth  party,  did 
not  seem  at  all  out  of  season.  Sam  forthwith  found 
himself  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  occasion,  and  Vv-ent  the 
.round  of  introductions  and  congratulations ;  while  Yil- 
liers,  realizing  the  fact  that  it  was  for  an  occasion  like 
this  that  he  had  during  the  last  winter  given  many  a 
patient  hour  to  the  practice,  straightway  led  his  fair 
partner  out  for  a  "  galop  "  to  her  immediate  surprise 
and  present  delight ;  for  with  his  indefatigable  p)atience, 
aided  by  his  good  ear  for  music,  Villiers  had  achieved 
in  four  months  what  some  men  can  never  learn,  —  the 
art  of  dancing  well. 

"  Mr.  Villiers,"  said  Kate,  as  soon  as  she  could  find 
breath,  "  how  very  nicely  you  dance  !  "  then  she  suddenly 
added,  "  How  can  you  expect  me  ever  to  believe  any 
thing  you  may  tell  me  again  ?  The  idea  of  pretendmg 
that  you  did  not  know  how,  so  that  I  actually  made 
bold  to  ask  you  to  dance  a  '  contra  '  with  me,  and  then 
you  making  believe  that  it  was  necessary  for  you  to 
study  it  for  an  hour  first !  Indeed,  it  was  very  unkind  ; 
but  I  knew  that  you  two  gentlemen  were  both  making 


202 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


sport  of  us  last  fall."  The  young  lady  looked  eonsid 
etably  nettled. 

VilUers  (eagerly).  —  I  think  I  can  explain  matters, 
Miss  Wentworth.  — (They  pass  on.) 

Miss  Eldredge  (to  Sam).  — You  are  drinking  deep  of 
glory  to-night,  are  you  not  ?  As  the  crowning  honor  of 
the  day,  I  am  going  to  present  you  to  Rose  Thorne. 
Considering  what  a  friend  of  your  sister's  she  is,  it  is  a 
little  strange  that  you  have  not  met  her  before.  She 
is  a  lovely  girl,  and  I  expect  that  you  will  be  very 
much  epris. 

Sam.  —  Thanks :  I  believe  I  don't  even  know  her 
by  sight;  but  of  course  I  shall  be  only  too  happy. 

Miss  Eldred.ge.  —  That  is  she,  with  Mr.  Huntingdon. 

Sam  (after  a  long  look).  —  Indeed,  I — (They  pass 
on.) 

"  I  say.  Brown,"  said  a  fine-looking  young  student 
who  wore  the  Yale  color,  to  the  stroke  of  their  Univer- 
sity crew,  "  who  is  that  lady  with  Tom  Hawes,  as  they 
call  him  ?  " 

Broivn.  —  I  believe  she  is  a  Miss  Wentworth,  sister 
to  the  man  who  pulled  three  in  the  Harvard  Freshman 
boat.    She's  a  nice-looking  girl,  isn't  she  ? 

Student.  —  I  should  say  so  ;  she  is  the  most  beautiful 
young  lady  here,  to  my  fancy :  I  wish  I  might  make 
her  acquaintance. 

Broion.  —  Easy  enough,  my  boy :  I  know  Wentworth, 
and  I  will  introduce  you.    (They  pass  on.) 

Wilkinson  (to  Huntingdon,  earnestly).  —  I  wish  you 
would  give  up  this  idea  of  yours,  of  a  supper  to-night. 

Huntingdon.  —  My  dear  felloAV,  I  couldn't  think  of 
such  a  thing  for  a  moment.     Our  arrangements  are 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


203 


made,  and  our  guests  invited,  and  a  royal  good  time  we 
are  going  to  have.    We  count  on  you,  of  course. 

Wilkinson.  —  I  want  to  explain  to  you  what  it  is  I 
am  trying  to  bring  about,  and  then  I  think  you  will 
be  quite  ready  to  let  your  entertainment  go.  Your 
class  crew  made  seven  seconds  better  time  this  after- 
noon than  was  made  by  the  winning  boat  in  the  Univer- 
sity race.  We  had  a  shower  to  pull  in,  but  that  didn't 
stop  us  much ;  then  your  men  were  delayed  by  the 
accident  from  ten  to  fifteen  seconds.  Now,  assuming 
that  the  shower  retarded  the  winning  boat  even  fifteen 
or  twenty  seconds  (and  I  feel  confident  that  it  did  not 
make  so  much  difference  as  that),  you  see  there  would 
still  be  some  seconds  to  spare  in  favor  of  your  boat. 
What  I  want  to  do  is  to  bring  about  a  race  to-morrow 
morning  between  the  two  winning  boats ;  for  I  believe 
that  the  championship  not  only  can  be,  but  ought  to  be, 
won  back.  But  if  one  even  of  the  men  should  go  to 
youi  supper,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  keep  them  all 
away,  perhaps  —    (They  pass  on.) 

Raskin.  —  I  say,  Hawes,  who  is  that  girl  there  ? 

Hawes.  —  Which  one  ? 

Haskill.  —  The  one  with  a  white  dress. 

Hawes.  — ^  So  many  have  white  dresses  !  — 

Saskill.  —  I  mean  the  girl  that  was  with  you  just 
now;  she's  with  a  Yale  student.  Prettiest  girl  in  the 
room. 

Hawes  (coolly).  —  Think  so  ?  Well,  I  don't  know  but 
you  are  right. 

Haskill.  —  Well,  but  who  is  she  ?  what's  her  name  ? 

Hawes.  —  I  believe  her  name  is  Went  worth,  —  Miss 
Wentworth. 


204 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Sashill.  —  The  !  What,  not  Sam  Wentworth's 

sister?  By  Jove,  he  shall  mtrocluce  me  at  once.  I 
haven't  danced  since  I  was  a  shaver,  but  I  guess  I  could 
on  a  pinch. 

Forgetful  of  the  dignity  becoming  a  Senior,  he  dashed 
off  to  find  Sam,  and  lose  his  heart  to  a  pair  of  blue  eyes. 

ISTor  was  Haskill  the  only  one,  as  we  have  seen,  who 
sought  Kate's  acquaintance  that  evening.  The  ball 
was  as  genuine  a  triumph  for  her  as  the  regatta  had 
been  for  her  brother.  Aside  from  the  attention  which 
she  received  from  Huntingdon  and  Villiers,  Sam,  who 
was  well  pleased  at  her  evident  popularity,  and  felt 
honestly  and  justly  proud  of  her  bright  and  charming 
appearance,  brought  up  and  introduced  to  her  a  score 
or  more  of  Jiis  college  friends  and  others  who  begged 
the  honor  at  his  hands.  Of  course  she  already  knew  the 
men  in  the  boat.  Smith  and  Hawes  and  Lewis  and  the 
rest,  but  they  were  a  little  shy  of  her ;  they  were  not 
the  kind  to  trouble  young  ladies  much ;  their  tastes  ran 
in  different  directions;  but  her  acquaintances  of  this 
evening  were  for  the  most  part  "society"  men,  ex- 
quisites, ladies'  men,  young  bucks  from  the  most  aristo- 
cratic families,  with  fine  manners  and  fine  clothes ;  and 
a  half-dozen  or  more  of  them  were  buzzing  around  her  all 
the  evening.  Kate  had  reason  to  feel  highly  gratified  at 
this  her  first  appearance  in  fashionable  society ;  for  she 
was  more  sought  after  than  any  other  lady  in  the  hall. 

"  I  have  to  go  now,"  said  Sam,  comparatively  early 
in  the  evening,  escorting  Miss  Thome  to  a  seat  by  his 
sister.  "  Yilliers  or  Adams  will  see  that  you  get  safely 
home.  It  is  absurdly  early,  I  know,"  he  continued  in 
reply  to  a  look  of  surprise ;  "  and,"  with  a  wistful  lool< 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


205 


at  liis  partner,  "j-ou  have  no  idea,  Miss  Thome,  how 
sorry  I  am  that  I  must  tear  myself  away  from  you.'' 
Sam  meant  what  he  said.  "  But  Smith  is  my  superior 
officer,  my  cajotain,"  he  continued ;  "  and  he  won't  allow 
me  to  remain  a  moment  longer.  He  says  vve  must  all 
go  home,  and  to  bed,  for  he  has  need  of  our  best 
strength  to-morrow." 

"  What  can  it  all  mean  ?  "  said  Kate,  wonderingiy. 

"  Smith  dichi't  give  us  an  idea.*' 

"I  am  sure  Mr.  Smith  is  too  severe.  I  should  not 
like  to  make  one  of  his  command,"  said  Miss  Thorne, 
pleasantly.  You  would  not  think  him  such  a  tj'rant, 
to  look  at  hun ; "  and  as  the  young  man  went  reluc- 
tantly away,  ''My  dear  Kate,"  she  said,  almost  enthusi- 
astically, allow  me  to  congratulate  you  on  your 
brother's  great  success  to-day.  What  a  splendid  fellow 
he  is  I    You  must  be  very  proud  of  him." 

These  two  girls,  as  they  stood  there  saying  pretty 
things  to  each  other,  formed  an  interesting  though 
suggestive  picture.  The  one,  with  flashing  eye  and 
flushed  cheek,  was  the  very  personification  of  girlish 
enthusiasm  and  beanty ;  the  other  was  even  more  siu'- 
passingly  beautiful,  but  was  as  entirely  unmoved  by  the 
brilliantly  excitmg  ball-room  with  its  inspiriting  music 
and  gay  company  as  she  had  been  by  the  stirrmg  events 
of  the  afternoon.  But  this  is  our  first  introduction  to 
Rose  Thorne;  and  her  influence  on  the  remainder  of 
Sam's  college  life  is  of  no  little  consequence. 

She  had  long  been  known  about  her  home  as  the 
prettiest  girl  of  the  vicinity.  She  was  just  tall  enough 
to  be  of  commanding  figure ;  her  delicate  head  was 
poised  on  her  shoulders  with  pecifliar  grace ;  her  hair 


206 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


which  was  neither  light  nor  dark,  was  perfectly  suited 
to  a  clear  complexion,  which  at  times  took  on  a  slight 
rose  tinge ;  she  had  fine  gray  eyes,  and  regular  features ; 
an  expression  equally  beautiful  in  animation  or  repose 
a  finely  rounded  throat,  and  well-developed  and  grace- 
ful figure,  and  a  most  charming  simplicity  of  manner. 
Such  was  Rose  Thorne.  She  looked  the  lady  from  the 
crown  of  her  head  to  the  sole  of  her  foot, — -one  of 
nature's  most  perfect  works.  What  wonder  that  Sam 
was  captivated  at  once,  as  Miss  Eldredge  had  laugh- 
ingly declared  he  would  be,  and  as  she  well  knew  had 
been  the  case  with  many  young  fellows  before  ?  Kate, 
too,  who  was  always  very  chary  in  bestowing  her  confi- 
dence, and,  as  a  consequence,  was  never  very  popular 
among  her  young  lady  acquaintances,  had  opened  hor 
heart  to  Rose  Thorne  from  the  very  first;  and  it  was 
already  determined  that  Miss  Rose  should  sojourn 
for  a  time  that  summer  at  the  Wentworth  mansion,  a 
hospitality  which  could  be  most  delightfully  recipro- 
cated when  Kate  should  spend  a  portion  of  the  gay 
winter  season  at  Mrs.  Thome's,  not  far  from  Boston  or 
from  Cambridge. 

While  every  one  else  was  dancing  and  flirting,  and 
having  a  glorious  time  after  the  fashion  of  their  own 
hearts,  there  was  one  man  who  was  unwilling  to  see  the 
championship  pass  thus  easily  from  Harvard  to  Yale, 
believing  as  he  did,  that,  even  then,  it  was  not  too  late 
to  regain  the  lost  honors.  Wilkinson,  the  Harvard 
stroke,  almost  the  only  man  in  that  boat  who  had  done 
his  duty  honestly  and  faithfully,  had  for  f  long  time 
feared  the  result  of  the  contest.  A  Sophomore  himself, 
while  the  other  m.en  in  the  boat  were  Juniors  and  Se- 


THE  EEGATTA  BALL. 


207 


niors,  he  had  found  it  impossible  to  make  liis  men  work 
as  he  knew  they  must  work,  if  thev  would  win  the 
colors.  He  had  pulled  like  a  giant  in  the  race,  and  had 
done  all  that  a  mortal  man  could  do  to  avert  the  catas- 
trophe ;  and  there  was  not  one,  of  all  those  who  were 
bitterest  in  their  denunciations  of  the  heroes  of  six  short 
hours  ago,  but  gave  him  full  credit  for  having  done  his 
work  like  a  man,  or  who  was  not  loud  in  his  praise ;  nor 
were  his  efforts  this  evening  less  manly  and  strenuous. 
As  he  said  to  Huntingdon,  and  as  was  the  fact  beyond 
a  doubt,  the  Harvard  Freshmen  in  their  narrow  shell, 
with  their  perfect  stroke  and  faultless  style,  had  made, 
by  seven  seconds,  the  best  time  of  all  that  afternoon. 
It  was  evident  that  the  Harvard  was  not  the  best  crew 
that  the  college  coidcl  put  into  the  regatta,  since  their 
own  Freshmen  had  beaten  their  time  by  more  than 
twenty  seconds.  Evidently  the  college  ought  to  have 
been  represented  by  the  Freshman  crew ;  and  perhaps, 
even  now,  it  might  not  be  too  late  to  mend  matters. 
Wilkinson  had  lost  no  time  in  impressing  Smith  and 
Hawes  with  the  fact  that  it  was  their  duty  to  pull  the 
victorious  Yale  boat  the  next  morning;  and  it  was  with 
tills  object  in  view  that  Smith  had  carried  off  his  men 
at  the  early  hour  that  Sam  retired,  Wilkinson  assuring 
them  that  he  would  arrange  all  the  preliminaries.  "Do 
you  go  home,  and  to  bed,*'  he  said  to  them,  and  get  a 
good  night's  rest,  and  be  ready  to  do  the  most  glorious 
day's  work  to-morrow  that  you  will  ever  do  in  your 
lives.  A^illiers  and  I  will  look  out  for  every  thing,  and 
make  every  arrangement.  The  Yale  boys  won"t  let 
their  men  crawl  out  of  it.''  Yilliers,  standing  by,  had 
assured  them  that  there  should  be  no  mistake  about  it, 


208 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVABD. 


that  the  race  should  certainly  come  off.  There  wera 
doubtless  few  men,  m  either  college,  who  would  have 
been  thus  anxious  to  double  their  own  disgrace  by 
having  their  Freshman  boat  win  back  the.  honors  they 
had  themselves  lost. 

Huiitingdon's  supper  was  likely  to  prove  a  fizzle, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  that  gentleman.  The  Freshman 
crew,  the  heroes  of  the  day,  so  far  as  Harvard  men  were 
concerned,  had  gone  to  their  farmhouse,  to  go  to  bed  ; 
none  of  the  defeated  Seniors  or  Juniors  felt  any  dispo- 
sition to  go  to  the  entertainment.  We  will  have  it, 
just  the  same,"  quoth  he,  to  his  particular  friends ; 
"  we'll  drink  deep  the  health  and  success  of  our  own 
gallant  crew,  and  confusion  to  their  enemies ;  and  if 
the  guests  first  bidden  prefer  to  go  to  bed,  rather  than 
come  to  the  feast,  we  must  see  what  can  be  done  toward 
supplying  their  places."  Indeed,  there  was  little  diffi- 
culty on  this  score  ;  and  Mr.  Huntingdon's  company 
were  soon  holding  high  revel  at  the  Bay  State. 

There  still  remained  to  Wilkinson  and  Villiers  the 
difficult  and  delicate  task  of  arranging  the  terms  of  a 
contest  with  the  Yale  boat  for  the  morrow.  There  was 
to  be  a  citizens'  regatta  in  the  morning ;  and  one  or  two 
crack  professional  crews  were  to  pull  for  a  purse  offered 
by  the  city  fathers.  The  Harvard,  whose  hopes  had  been 
high,  had  intended,  in  case  they  should  be  victorious 
over  Yale,  to  give  the  professionals  a  rub  ;  but  no  one 
seemed  to  know  whether  Yale  was  going  to  pull,  or  not. 
At  length  the  young  men  succeeded  in  finding  Brown, 
the  stroke  and  captain  of  the  victorious  crew.  He,  in 
turn,  sought  out  his  bow  oar;  and  the  jiroposition  Avas 
made  to  them  by  Wilkinson,  to  pull  the  Harvard  Fresh- 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


209 


men.  They  were  unable  to  give  a  decided  answer  to 
so  novel  a  proposal.  They  had  not  intended  to  enter 
into  a  contest  with  the  professionals,  and,  indeevl,  had 
congratulated  themselves  that  their  work  in  a  six-oar 
was  over  for  the  year ;  but  if  the  Harvard  Freshmen 
were  desirous  of  pulling  a  race  with  them  —  they  could 
not  say ;  they  would  consult  their  friends,  and  give  a 
decided  answer  in  the  morning.  Neither  Wilkinson  nor 
Yilliers,  however,  was  one  to  be  turned  aside  by  politely 
framed  speeches;  and  both  showed  clearly  their  deter- 
mination of  following  the  matter  up,  and  receiving  a 
decided  answer.  So,  at  length,  the  four  young  men 
went  together  to  the  Bay  State,  where,  in  a  room  apart, 
they  found  a  score  or  more  of  the  wearers  of  the  blue, 
celebrating  the  victory  of  the  afternoon  in  a  right  jolly 
carouse.  Shouts  and  cheers  and  songs  confusedly  com- 
mingled, empty  bottles  in  profusion,  dense  clouds  of 
tobacco-smoke,  every  conceivable  posture,  and  every  de- 
gree of  sobriety,  showed  plainl}^  that  the  revel,  though 
still  at  its  height,  had  already  been  of  long  duration. 

The  captain  gathered  his  men  together  in  a  corner, — 
all  of  them  long  since  heroically  hilarious,  —  while  our 
two  friends  remained  quietly  near  the  door,  civilly 
refusing  all  offers  of  refreshment,  though  they  were 
cordially  and  confidentially  and  emphatically  pressed 
upon  them,  and  stated  the  object  of  their  visit,  —  that 
the  two  envoys  were  come  in  behalf  of  the  Harvard 
Freshman  crew,  who  were  ambitious  of  winning  their 
laurels  on  the  following  morning.  There  was  to  be  a 
regatta ;  and  the  question  was,  should  they  enter,  and 
.give  their  would-be  competitors  an  opportunity  of  beat- 
ing them,  and  winning  back  the  championship,  if  they 


210 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


could  ?  "  You  know,  boys,"  said  Brown,  lowering  Ins 
voice  to  a  whisper,  "  we  haven't  had  the  colors  before 
for  five  years,  and  it  is  very  safe  not  to  run  any  risks ; 

and  those  beggars  pull  like  .    You  know  they  beat 

our  time  this  afternoon."  The  crew,  however,  was  all 
of  a  mind.  "  Pull  by  all  means !  pull  anybody  and 
at  any  time,  professionals  and  Harvard  Freshmen  both 
if  necessary,"  were  their  sentiments  most  emphatically 
expressed. 

The  rest  of  the  company  at  once  scented  what  was 
in  the  wind,  and  were  decided  and  unanimous,  as  well 
as  demonstrative,  in  their  assent  to  the  affirmations  of 
the  crew.  It  was  as  if  a  whirlwind  had  suddenly  risen 
in  the  little  room. 

"I  understand,  then,  gentlemen,"  said  Wilkinson, 
"  that  you  agree  to  our  proposition,  that  you  enter  for 
the  citizens'  regatta  to-morrow,  it  being  a  part  of  the 
agreement  that  the  Harvard  Freshman  crew  shall  do 
the  same,  both  boats  to  pull  a  three-mile  race  ?  " 

There  was  a  shout  of  assent  from  one  and  all ;  and, 
saluting  the  company,  the  twain  departed. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Brown,  after  the  Harvard  men 
had  left,  "  I  am  sorry  that  it  happens  so,  but  we  must 
break  up  at  once.  At  least  we  boating-men  must  not 
stay  here  another  minute  :  if  we  are  going  to  pull  a 
race  to-morrow,  we  must  one  and  all  go  to  bed,  and  get 
some  sleep.  I  wish  I  had  known  of  this  two  hours  ago  ; 
come,  Tyler,  not  another  drop !  "  With  this  he  once 
more  gathered  his  men  together. 

"  The  Harvard  men  are  having  a  regular  howl  in  the 
next  room  ;  just  hear  them,  will  you  ?  They've  been  at 
it  too  this  long  time.  They  will  be  nicely  used  up  to- 
morrow," vouchsafed  one  of  the  party. 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


211 


"  Not  one  of  the  men  who  are  going  to  pull  is  there," 
answered  the  captain.  "  They  all  went  home  early  in 
the  evening.  I  couldn't  imagine  what  was  up  when  I 
saw  them  laying  their  heads  together  along  with  Wil- 
kinson and  that  tall  fellow.  There  is  where  they  have 
got  the  points  on  us.  One  used-up  man  in  a  boat  is 
enough  to  lose  a  race ;  and  we  are  pretty  certain  to  have 
two  or  three,"  and  the  clear-headed  young  man  looked 
thoughtful  and  concerned. 

"For  shame.  Brown  I "  said  one.  "Oh,  jou  can't 
heljj  cleaning  them  out :  they're  only  Freshmen,"  called 
out  a  second.  "  Take  something,  old  boy,  and  cheer  up 
a  bit.  You've  got  the  blues."  But  at  last,  amid  much 
shouting  and  cheering  and  drinking  of  health  and 
success  for  the  morrow,  the  captain  fairly  rescued  his 
men  from  the  clutches  of  his  friends,  though  it  was  a 
most  miwilling  parting  on  both  sides. 

And  now  the  scene  changes  to  the  farmhouse  by  the' 
lake,  where  the  young  boatmen,  who  in  a  few  hours 
more  are  to  make  a  manly  effort  to  win  back  the  honors 
which  their  seniors  and  supposed  superiors  had  lost, 
are  soundly  sleeping  as  only  youth  and  health  and  tired 
frames  can  sleep.  Smith,  Tom  Hawes,  and  Sam  occupy 
the  large  front  room,  and  the  other  three  men  are  domi- 
ciled in  the  rear.  The  night  was  far  advanced,  and  was 
dark,  damp,  and  still ;  the  world  was  wrapped  in  sleep  ; 
even  the  revels  at  the  hotel  had  subsided,  and  quiet 
reigned  throughout  the  corridors.  From  out  the  depths 
of  the  darkness,  a  carriage  drew  slowly  up  to  the  farm- 
house ;  there  was  a  loud  rapping  on  the  fence,  and  a 
voice  cried,  "  Ho,  there  in  the  house !  " 


212 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


li 


Smith,  always  a  light  sleeper,  was  at  the  window  ir_  ar 
instant,  and  said,  "  What  is  wanted  ?  " 

The  carriage.  —  We  want  to  see  the  captain  of  the 
Harvard  Freshman  crew. 

Smith.  —  Well,  I'm  your  man. 

By  this  time  there  were  three  white  forms  clustering 
round  the  open  window. 

Tom  (in  a  whisper). — What's  up  now? 

Smith.  —  Can't  guess.    See  what  time  it  is,  Sam. 

Sam  (lighting  a  match  for  an  instant,  to  look  at  his 
watch).  —  It  is  twenty  minutes  past  two. 

There  had  been  a  whispered  conference  in  the  car- 
riage during  these  seconds;  and  then  the  same  voice 
issued  forth  out  of  the  darkness :  — 

The  carriage.  —  You  expect  to  enter  the  citizens' 
regatta  in  the  morning,  and  pull  against  the  victorious 
Yale  boat ;  do  you  not  ? 

Smith.  —  Yes;  we  understand  that  they  have  pledged 
themselves  to  enter,  and  we  propose  to  enter  too. 

The  carriage.  —  The  Yale  men  are  willing  to  pull  a 
race  with  you.  I  don't  mean  willing:  they  want  to 
pull  you,  of  course,  if  you  wish  it;  but  they  don't  at 
all  like  the  idea  of  entering  with  professionals.  They 
want  to  pull  you  in  a  separate  race,  and  are  not  disposed 
to  do  any  thing  about  it  unless  they  can. 

Smith.  —  Ah,  very  well :  if  that  is  all,  it  doesn't 
matter  in  the  least.  We  don't  care  how  it  is  we  pull 
them,  provided  the  race  only  comes  off.  Put  up  the 
flags  you  won  to-day,  and  we  will  pull  for  them,  and 
have  a  separate  race  with  the  greatest  pleasure. 

"Good"  said!  Tom,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  slapping 
Smith  on  the  back,    well  put  that  was  ;  but  I  bet  you 


THE  EEGATTA  BALL. 


213 


the  J  don't  do  it :  tliey  don't  get  the  colors  everT  day, 
and  Tvlien  tliey  do  they  mean  to  keep  them." 

The  carriage  (after  a  consultation).  —  Thank  you 
for  the  suggestion,  but  we  will  do  no  sucli  thing.  AVe 
won  the  colors  in  a  perfectly  straight  race,  and  we  see 
no  good  reason  why  we  should  win  them  over  again. 

Srnitli. — AVell.  perhaps  it  will  be  as  well  for  you 
not  to  run  any  risks.  Suppose,  then,  we  put  up  a  new 
set  of  colors  for  the  championship.  Let  them  be  appro- 
priately inscribed  witli  the  time,  place,  the  names  of 
the  crews,  and  let  them  state  the  reasons  for  the  race. 
How  does  that  idea  suit  you? 

"  Bet  you  they  don't,"  growled  Tom.  "  They  don't 
mean  to  pull  at  all.  and  have  come  to  back  down.  Half 
of  'em  were  drunk  last  night,  and  they  knoAv  they'd 
get  whipped  :  "  and  he  began  groping  for  his  pipe,  which 
he  found  and  lit  for  consolation. 

The  carriage, — AVe  don't  C[uite  see  the  reason  why 
we  should  pull  you  for  the  championship  when  it  is 
ours  already.  There  would  be  very  little  honor  in  beat- 
ing a  Freshman  crew. 

Smith  (hotly).  —  Honor  or  not,  we  claim  that  we 
are  able  to  outrow  you,  and  that  we  did  so  yesterday 
afternoon  by  seven  seconds  at  the  very  lowest  estimate ; 
and  we  think  we  can  better  that  if  you  will  give  us 
the  opportunity,  as  we  supposed  you  were  going  to  do. 
^Vliat  in  thunder  do  you  want  of  a  separate  race  unless 
there  is  to  be  something  particular  to  pull  for?  Unless 
you  will  put  up  the  colors  you  hold,  or  a  new  set,  we 
can  pull  with  the  other  boats  well  enough,  for  any  thing 
I  see. 

Ah !  I  told  you  that  they'd  only  come  to  back 


214 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


down,"  said  Tom,  with  a  groan.  Boating  was  to  hin: 
the  one  beautiful  thing  in  life.  Here  had  been  an 
opportunity  of  doing  something  glorious,  and  to  feel  it 
thus  slipping  from  his  grasp  was  simply  horrible  :  the 
poor  fellow  was  the  very  personification  of  woe. 

There  was  a  whispered  conference  outside,  and  then 
a  second  voice  issued  from  the  gloom,  albeit  a  little 
sarcastical  in  tone  this  time,  and  of  a  very  different 
quality. 

The  carriage.  —  You  certainly  ought  to  know, 
though  of  course  you  do  not,  why  it  is  that  the  Yale 
men  are  unwilling  to  enter  the  citizens'  regatta,  and 
pull  in  the  same  race  with  the  professionals.  We  had 
it  from  first  hand,  you  may  be  sure,  or  we  shouldn't 
be  here,  direct  from  one  of  the  men  who  pull  in  one 
of  the  professional  boats,  though  I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
say  who,  that  some  of  your  friends  had  fixed  the  matter 
up  with  the  boys.  Of  course  Yale  don't  expect  to  be 
able  to  outpuU  a  professional  crew.  Well,  one  of  the 
boys  told  me  that  some  of  your  friends  had  made  a 
trade  with  them,  and  closed  the  bargain.  They  were  to 
let  their  own  race  go,  to  keep  alongside  Yale,  and,  if  you 
had  the  best  of  it,  all  right ;  but  if  Yale  had  the  best 
of  it,  they  were  to  jockey  them  as  they  could  easily  do, 
and  let  your  men  get  the  turn,  and  then  give  Yale 
their  wash  on  the  home-stretch  ;  in  fact,  there  was  a 
regular  trade  to  throw  the  race  into  your  hands.  Now 
you  know  why  it  is  that  Yale  don't  care  to  pull  with 
the  professionals,  though  of  course  you  didn't  before. 

This  was  rather  an  astonishing  piece  of  news. 

Smith  (after  an  instant's  pause). — Do  you  belong 
to  the  Yale  boat? 


THE  EEGATTA  BALL. 


215 


±he  same  voice  from  the  carriage.  —  Xo,  I  don't. 
Smith  (fiercely).  —  Is  there  anybody  out  there  that 
does? 

First  speaker  from  carriage.  —  Yes,  I  pull  stroke. 

Tom  (hoarsely).  —  Sail  in  now,  Smith,  and  give  it 

to  'em ;  for,  by  ,  if  there  was  ever  an  outrageous 

piece  of  insolence,  enough  to  make  a  man's  blood  boil, 
it  is  this. 

Smith.  —  I  don't  know  who  you  are  that  has  just 
been  talking ;  but  if  you  will  only  wait  two  minutes,  till 
I  can  get  my  boots  and  trousers,  I  will  come  down,  and 
knock  every  tooth  in  your  head  down  your  throat.  [A 
hoarse  guffaw  from  the  carriage  is  the .  only  reply  to 
this  rather  plucky  threat ;  for  Smith  didn't  know  that 
the  burly  sporting-man  could  strangle  him  with  one 
hand.]  I  should  not  think,  Mr.  Brown,  that  you 
would  permit  your  companion  to  insult  us  in  this  style. 
We  are  at  least  gentlemen,  and  ought  to  be  treated  with 
decency.  I  give  you  credit  for  believing  that  no 
Harvard  man  would  do  the  vile  thing  which  your  man 
there  has  described.  I  am  sure  I  wouldn't  believe  it 
of  any  of  you.  It  seems  to  me  you  are  not  doing  the 
fair  thing  by  us,  Brown.  If  you  don't  care  to  pull  us, 
and  no  offence  (but  I  can  see  why  you  shouldn't  care  to, 
for  you  have  every  thing  to  lose  and  nothing  to  gain),  it 
would  surely  be  more  manly  and  honorable  to  say  so, 
than  to  come  here  with  a  story  about  us,  that,  if  true, 
would  be  disgraceful  even  amongst  the  most  unprin- 
cipled professionals. 

Brown.  —  I  do  ask  your  pardon,  gentlemen ;  we  are 
quite  ready  to  pull,  of  course,  and  expected  to  go  in 
with  the  other  boats,  and  I  had  made  my  arrangements 


216 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAHD. 


to  that  effect.  I  could  hardly  credit  the  story  myself ; 
but  Mr.  Stifler  here  had  it  direct  from  the  stroke  him- 
self with  whom  the  bargain  was  made  ;  and  it  did  look 
rather  black  and  ugly,  you  must  confess. 

Smith.  —  Then  this  man  who  sold  out  to  our  friends 
his  own  race,  and  yours  too,  didn't  tell  you  all  this  him- 
self. 

Broivn,  —  No,  I  have  not  seen  him. 

Sam  (to  Smith).  —  Stifler  is  the  man  who  won  four- 
teen thousand  dollars  on  the  University  race.  Don't 
you  remember,  he  came  on  from  New  York  with  our 
shell  ? 

Smith,  —  Of  course,  nothing  of  this  kind  can  pos- 
sibly be  true ;  but  you  don't  want  to  pull,  I  suppose. 

Stifler  (interrupting) .  — You  are  a  little  too  fast  in 
your  conclusions,  my  young  friend.  You  haven't  heard 
yet  what  it  is  we  propose  to  do.  We  haven't  come  out 
here  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  back  down,  by  a 
d — d  sight. 

Tom,  —  Amen  ! 

Stifler.  —  But  what  we  do  propose  is  this:  You  see 
it  is  no  use  pulling  for  the  old  flags,  because  they  have 
been  won  once  in  first-class  style ;  and  it  is  no  use  put- 
ting up  new  ones  for  the  championship,  because  the 
Yale  boys  are  the  champions  already;  and  after  the 
story  they  have  heard,  coming  as  it  does  from  head- 
quarters, they  don't  feel  like  entering  the  regular 
regatta,  and  you  can't  blame  them  either.  Of  course, 
we  never  once  imagined  that  you  had  fixed  this  business 
up  ;  but  that  some  of  your  friends  have,  unbeknown 
to  you,  you  may  be  just  certain  sure.  Now,  then,  here 
is  our  proposition;  and  it  is  the  only  one  we  can  see 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


217 


our  way  clear  to  make.  The  Yale  University  boat  will 
pull  you  a  square  three-mile  race  on  Lake  Quinsigamond 
in  the  morning,  you  two  boats  to  be  the  only  ones 
which  shall  enter,  at  such  time  as  we  shall  agree  upon ; 
the  stakes  to  be  ten  thousand  dollars  a  side.  I  have  the 
money  ready  to  put  up  the  minute  you  say  the  word  ; 
and  you  can  raise  it  without  difficulty  in  the  morning. 
And  now,  young  man,  if  you  are  so  d — d  anxious  to 
pull  that  race,  and  get  beaten,  this  is  your  chance. 

Tom.  —  Take  him  up.  Smith :  the  feliows  will  back 
us  for  twice  that  amount.  Any  thing  for  a  brush  with 
the  beggars. 

Smith.  —  What  do  you  say,  Wentworth  ? 

Sam,  —  It  seems  to  me  that  we  ought  to  decline  to 
pull  for  money,  though  I  should  be  as  disappointed  as 
any  one. 

Smith  (after  a  minute's  thought).  —  I  think  so  too. 
(To  the  carriage.)  Do  you  agree  ta  these  terms,  Mr. 
Brown  ? 

Brown. — Yes.  We  are  quite  ready  to  pull  on  those 
conditions. 

Well  they  might  be,  so  far  as  the  money  was  con- 
cerned, since  it  was  furnished  by  a  third  party. 

Smith.  —  Well,  gentlemen,  here  is  our  answer.  We 
will  pull  for  the  old  flags,  or  put  up  new  ones  appropri- 
ately inscribed  as  I  suggested,  or  enter  with  you  in  the 
regatta,  or  pull  you  a  fair  race,  our  two  boats  alone  to 
enter.  But  when  it  comes  to  pulling  for  money, 
whether  the  stakes  are  ten  thousand  dollars  or  as  many 
-  cents,  you  may  count  us  out.  It  isn't  for  such  a  pur- 
pose as  thisj;hat  we  at  Harvard  carry  on  the  sport. 
We  are  not  professionals,  to  make  a  living  at  betting 


218 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


and  boat-racing.  We  try  to  go  into  the  contest  as  gen 
tlemen  ought,  solely  to  see  who  are  the  better  men,  and 
the  more  skilful  oarsmen.  We  do  our  own  training 
and  coaching,  and  have  no  help  from  any  outsider  in 
any  way ;  and  we  mean  to  try  to  do  all  that  we  do  in 
an  honorable  and  gentlemanly  manner.  To  pull  for 
stakes,  is  something  I  hope  a  Harvard  crew  will  never 
do.  I  am  surprised,  Mr.  Brown,  that  you  should  allow 
us  to  be  insulted  twice.  Of  course,  I  know  all  about 
your  friend  and  backer  there.  He  is  the  man  who 
made  fourteen  thousand  dollars  out  of  the  University 
race ;  and  naturally  enough  he  wishes  to  make  some- 
thing more  ;  but,  for  one,  I  don't  intend  to  help  him  to 
such  a  result.  You  may  be  sure  that  his  story  about 
the  bargain  made  to  "  jockey  "  your  crew  is  all  a  sheer 
fabrication,  invented  solely  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
up  this  ten-thousand-dollar  affair  of  his.  I  hope  you 
will  conclude  to  pull  us  a  straight  race  of  some  kind  in 
the  morning.  I  bid  you  good-night.  He  shut  down 
the  window  with  a  bang,  and  presently  the  carriage 
rolled  away. 

"  Bet  you  they  don't  pull,"  said  Tom  once  more. 
"  But  you  had  'em  bad,  or  I'm  mistaken ;  and  were 
right  too  about  not  pulling  for  money,  as  you  always 
are." 

Smith.  —  Lend  me  your  pipe,  you  loafer.  (A  steady 
succession  of  puffs.)    How  I  have  talked ! 

Sam.  — •  Yes.  We'll  have  you  class  orator  yet,  as 
well  as  captain  of  the  Harvard.  I  think  Tom  is  wrong 
about  their  not  pulling.  I  don't  see  how  they  can 
avoid  it  in  common  decency ;  and  I  don't  believe  the 
fellows  would  let  Brown  back  out  if  he  wdtnted  to  ever 
so  much. 


THE  REGATTA  BALL. 


219 


Smith  (knocking  the  ashes  out  of  the  pipe).  —  Yes, 
that's  our  best  hope.  Every  man  turn  in  :  what  shall 
we  be  good  for  if  we  sit  up  here  all  night,  talking  ? 

Saturday  morning  was  hot  and  still.  Not  a  ripple 
ruffled  the  smooth  surface  of  the  lake  that  lay  spread 
out  before  the  shady  piazza  of  the  hotel,  stretching 
away  hot  and  glassy  beneath  the  burning  July  sun  ;  and 
not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  the  leafy  yerdure  skirting  its 
edge.  Already  the  spectators  were  gathering  on  Re- 
gatta Point,  though  there  was  to  be  by  no  means  the 
dense  throng  of  the  preceding  day.  Thousands  who 
came  to  witness  that  stirring  spectacle  took  their  depar- 
ture on  crowded  railway-trains  in  the  evening,  —  college 
boys  whose  slender  means  did  not  permit  of  a  longer 
sojourn ;  young  ladies  who  had  begged  and  obtained 
leave  of  absence  for  the  afternoon  only  ;  others  whom 
the  jealous  claims  of  business  held  fast ;  even  the  towns- 
people, to  a  large  extent,  would  not  care  to  make  the 
excursion  to  the  lake  for  two  successive  days.  But  still 
the  crowd  bid  fair  to  be  large. 

The  ladies  were  sitting  on  the  cool  piazza,  waiting  for 
their  escorts,  the  gentlemen,  who  one  and  all  had  gone 
down  to  the  boat-house. 

They  are  late,"  said  Kate,  nervously.  "  The  race 
was  to  have  been  pulled  at  ten  o'clock ;  and  it  is  now 
twenty  minutes  .past  the  hour,  and  no  signs  of  the 
boats." 

I  fear  that  it  will  be  too  severe  a  task,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  looking  anxiously  out  on  the  calm,  hot  sur- 
face of  the  lake.  "  I  hope  Sam  will  give  up  boat-racing 
after  this  season." 


220 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  I  don't,"  returned  Kate,  with  a  little  indignant  toss 
of  the  head.  "  I  want  to  see  him  stroke  of  the  Har- 
vard, if  possible." 

"  With  better  fortune  than  attended  the  efforts  of 
that  company  yesterday,"  suggested  Miss  Thorne,  pleas- 
antly. She  had  come  over  to  see  the  regatta,  not  knowing 
that  the  college  boats  were  going  to  pull ;  but  had 
been  at  once  informed  by  her  enthusiastic  friend,  who 
had  herself  received  full  details  of  the  arrangements 
from  Villiers. 

"  They  must  be  coming  now,"  said  Miss  Eldredge,  as 
sudden  cheers  followed  by  prolonged  shouting  came 
from  down  the  lake  ;  and  indeed  it  was  time.  The 
point  was  well  filled  with  spectators  who  had  been 
waiting  patiently  for  an  hour,  the  judges  were  at  their 
post,  and  there  was  notliing  wanting  but  the  crews. 
The  ladies  had  made  a  final  adjustment  of  hats  and 
gloves,  that  there  might  be  no  delay  when  their  escorts 
should  come  to  conduct  them  to  the  point.  Of  a 
sudden,  Sam  and  Villiers,  Huntingdon  and  Adams, 
presented  themselves,  Sam  smiling  good-naturedly,  Vil- 
liers looking  vexed  enough. 

It's  all  up,"  said  Sam,  laughingly.  "  Now,  Miss 
Thorne,  I  am  my  own  master,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  devote  myself  to  you." 

"What  is  it?"  exclaimed  both  Kate  and  Miss  El- 
dredge. 

"  Yale  has  backed  down,"  said  Huntingdon,  contemp- 
tuously. 

"  It  is  not  quite  fair  to  say  that,"  interposed  Villiers. 

"I  thought  you  said  that  the  race  was  determined 
upon  beyond  a  peradventure,"  said  Kate,  in  a  disap- 
pointed tone. 


THE  EEGATTA  BALL. 


221 


"  So  it  was,"  replied  Villiers ;  "  but  Tyler  of  tire 
Yale  boat  is  sick,  and  cannot  possibly  pull/' 

"  It  is  fair  to  say,"  said  Adams,  "  that  Yale  was  as 
much  disappointed  and  disgusted  as  we  vrere." 

"  That  was  the  occasion  of  the  uproar  we  heard, 
then?"  inquired  Miss  Eldredge. 

"  Yes,"  Adams  replied :  "  there  were  two  or  three 
hundred  fellows  all  together  about  the  boat-house  ;  and, 
when  it  became  certain  that  the  race  could  not  come  off, 
they  gave  vent  to  their  feelings." 

''For  one,  I  am  not  sorry:  I  think  you  have  had 
boating  enough  for  one  season  at  least,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  fondly. 

"And  I  can  only  feel  thankful,"  said  Miss  Thorne, 
with  a  charmmg  smile,  as  she  accepted  Sam's  proffered 
hand  by  way  of  assistance  over  a  very  rough  part  of 
the  vvay  (the  party  were  en  i^outc  for  the  point),  "  since 
I  have  thereby  gained  an  esquire,"  and  she  looked  at 
her  companion  with  no  unfavoring  glance. 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  quite  as  well  pleased,  as  to  be  out 
there  pegging  away  on  the  course,  and  likely  enough 
coming  in  two  or  three  lengths  behind,"  returned  Sam; 
as  he  all  at  once  realized  that  there  were  joys  in  life 
which  hitherto  he  had  known  not  of. 

Now  that  the  young  student  is  seated  by  the  side  of 
his  fair  companion,  drinking  in  her  beauty,  and  making 
one  of  the  merry  company  vrho  with  bright  talli  and 
merry  laughter  are  awaiting  the  return  of  the  profes- 
sionals, his  hrst  summer  vacation  has  fairly  begun,  and 
the  very  happiest  season  of  his  life  is  apparently  near  at 
hand.  Ah,  those  college  summer  vacations !  weeks  of 
sunshine  in  the  soft  golden  summer-time,  —  is  there 


222 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


any  thing  in  after-life  to  compare  with  them,  as  one 
looks  back,  and  thinks  of  the  perfect  rest,  the  perfect 
freedom  from  restraint  and  care,  that  they  brought  with 
them  ?  Bright  visions  of  the  mountains  and  the  sea 
come  back  to  the  memory,  of  moonlight  drives  in  the 
soft  evening  twilight,  with  glancing  eyes  and  breathing 
loveliness  at  one's  side,  of  merry  picnics  and  delight- 
Bome  excursions  by  land  and  by  sea.  Ah  !  happy,  hap- 
py are  the  days  of  college  summer  vacations ! 


XIV. 


SUMMEETIDE. 

You  may  be  sure  that,  before  bis  departure  from 
Worcester,  Sam  had  many  invitations  extended,  and 
many  arrangements  for  passing  these  next  six  weeks, 
pressed  upon  him  by  his  college  friends  v,'ixh  the  great- 
est sincerity. 

Half  a  dozen  of  us,  Le^Yis  and  Smith  among  the 
rest,  are  going  for  a  tramp  through  the  mountains, 
shouldermg  our  baggage,  and  pitching  our  camp  Trher- 
ever  we  halt.  We  can't  help  having  a  glorious  time  ; 
and  vre  count  on  you  to  make  one  of  us.'"  This  was 
Lyman's  programme  for  the  summer;  and  he  was  very 
loath  to  part  company  with  his  classmate. 

"  I've  got  a  splendid  project,"  said  Tom,  his  dark 
face  lightmg  up  with  an  eager  flush :  *•  and  I  know  it 
will  just  hit  you  to  a  T.  You  and  I  take  the  •  Arethusa  ' 
(Lj-man's  double  scull),  put  her  aboard  the  cars,  go  up 
to  the  headquarters  of  the  Connecticut,  and  pull  her 
do^TL  to  the  Sound.  We  can  take  stuff,  and  cook  our 
own  grub,  and  sleep  under  the  boat.  How's  that  for  a 
month's  boating  ? 

"  I'm  going  home  to  see  the  old  man,"  said  Haskill, 
taking  his  friend's  arm  in  his  confidential  way.  I'm 
flush  now,  you  know;"  and  all  the  dignity  of  a  full- 

223 


224 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


fledged  Senior  enshrouded  the  young  student.  "  The 
money  is  more  yours  than  mine,  for  wasn't  it  your  own 
right  arm  that  won  it?  If  you  like  to  see  the  Great 
West,"  eagerly,  "now  is  your  time,  Wentworth ;  we'll 
do  it  in  style." 

All  these  and  other  propositions  that  were  advanced, 
lie  reported  to  his  mother  and  sister. 

"  I  know  you  must  need  rest ;  and  you  can  find  it 
nowhere  so  well  as  at  home,"  was  Mrs.  Wentworth's 
quiet  comment. 

"  Walk  over  the  mountains,  indeed !  "  exclaimed  Kate, 
half  indignantly.  "  Do  you  suppose  that  we  are  going 
to  give  you  up  altogether  ?  we  want  to  get  acquainted 
with  5'ou  ourselves.  The  idea  of  your  thinking  of  such 
a  thing  as  going  out  West  when  you  know  who  is  com- 
ing to  make  us  a  visit !  " 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Sam,  blushing :  "  it  would  be 
absurd." 

He  had  spoken  of  these  invitations  because  he  wanted 
to  be  quite  certain  that  "  the  visit "  was  an  established 
fact. 

The  party  broke  u]3,  but  not  without  arrangements 
for  meeting  before  the  end  of  the  vacation.  Both  Vil 
liers  and  Huntingdon  were  cordially  invited  by  Mrs 
Wentworth  to  consider  her  home  as  their  own  for  the 
summer;  and  Sam  seconded  her  most  warmly. 

"  I  sliall  certainly  trespass  on  your  hospitality  before 
September,"  said  Huntingdon,  "  though  I  am  sorry  that 
it  must  be  some  weeks  before  I  can  accept  your  kind 
invitation  ; "  and  he  looked  thoughtfully  at  Kate,  and 
then  at  Yilliers  with  whom  she  happened  to  be  talking. 

The  last-named  gentleman  had  arranged  to  pass  his 


SUMMERTIDE. 


225 


vacation  at  the  hotel  at  Little  Harbor.  "  I  shall  be  a 
neighbor,  and  I  dare  say,  if  permitted,  a  frequent  guest 
at  your  home,"  was  his  reply  to  Mrs.  AVentworth. 

Sam  had  answered  Hasldirs  invitation  to  go  West 
b}'  a  cheery  proposal  that  they  should  spend  the  time 
together  at  his  own  home. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  no  go,  but  I  must  see  the  old 
man,"  said  Hasldll,  shaking  his  head  ruefully,  while  he 
looked  longingly  at  Kate.  "  He  has  written  to  me,  and 
sent  the  stamps,  —  a  cool  hundred,  God  bless  his  old 
head !  you  know  there's  only  him  and  me.  But,"  he 
continued,  as  a  pleasant  thought  struck  him,  "  I  can 
cut  it  short,  you  know,  and  get  off,  and  have  a  week  or 
ten  clays  with  you."  Both  ]Mrs.  WentAVorth  and  Kate 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  queer  young  Westerner. 

"  He's  an  odd,  rough  fellow,  but  there  is  much  good 
in  him,"  was  Villiers's  comment  to  the  former  lad}', 
in  which  sentiment  she  entirely  agreed  ;  while  Kate 
declared  that  he  was  the  most  entertaining  young 
gentleman  she  had  ever  met,  and  petted  him  in  a  fash- 
ion that  was  as  delicious  as  it  was  new  to  the  recipient 
of  her  favors.  j\Iiss  Eldredge  was  to  spend  the  sum- 
mer with  her  cousins ;  and,  where  she  was,  one  might 
be  sure  of  finding  Will  Adams ;  so  that,  at  one  time  or 
another,  all  of  the  party  were  pretty  sure  of  meeting 
again  before  long ;  and  the  anticipation  was  most  pleas- 
ant. 

The  event  of  Miss  Thome's  visit  was  not  to  transpire 
at  once;  and  for  a  week  Sam  found  himself  at  home 
with  his  mother  and  sister,  and  every  thing  quite  as  it 
used  to  be  before  he  went  to  college ;  and  those  were 
happy  days. 


226 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


He  c(id  iiidoed  need  rest.  The  training  for  the  two 
regattas,  and  the  excitement  attendant  upon  them, 
together  with  the  unconscionably  hard  work  he  had 
done  by  way  of  preparation  for  the  annuals,  had  taxed 
his  strength  severely ;  how  severely  he  did  not  know 
himself,  till  he  had  been  at  home  several  days,  and  found 
out  how  thoroughly  tired  he  was.  It  seemed  wonder- 
fully convenient  and  pleasant  to  lounge  about  the  house 
in  the  idle,  sleepy  manner  which  the  season  provoked  ; 
smoking  his  pipe  perhaps  (which  was  coloring  beauti- 
fully), to  the  great  scandal  of  his  sister,  who  did  not 
favor  his  new  accomplishment  in  the  least ;  listening  to 
the  new  music  she  had  learned,  and  the  songs  which 
he  had  sent  home  to  her ;  and  sometimes  lending  his 
own  bass  in  the  choral  passages,  as  he  had  learned  to 
do  at  Harvard ;  or  talking  over  with  her  the  incidents 
of  his  boating  experience. 

If  he  ever  thoroughly  enjoyed  any  thing  in  his  life, 
it  was  meeting  his  old  associates  at  this  time.  These, 
though  perhaps  tougher  and  more  wiry,  could  not 
begin  to  show  as  much  muscle  as  the  young  student ; 
and  as  physical  strength  was  always  at  a  premium 
among  the  hard-fisted  young  fellows,  he  at  once  became 
a  hero  in  their  estimation.  They  were  never  tired  of 
hearing,  as  in  the  evening  twilight  they  clustered 
around  the  little  post-office,  how  his  boat  had  "  cleaned 
out "  the  Yale  Freshmen  contrary  to  everj^body's 
expectations,  and  how  they  would  have  beaten  the 
University  crew  too,  if  they  had  only  come  to  time. 
He  was  so  utterly  ingenuous  and  good-natured,  that 
there  was  not  a  single  envious  listener  in  his  audience, 
or  a  single  false  friend  among  them  all,  pr  one  who  did 


sum:meetide. 


227 


not  admire  his  good  looks,  his  fashionable  clothes,  his 
muscle,  and  his  easy  assurance.  Xo,  they  all  voted  him 
a  capital  fellow,  and  declared  that  he  had  not  become  a 
bit  ^' stuck  up  by  going  to  college  ;  while  more  than 
one  pretty  face  smiled  sweetly  at  him  from  the  win- 
dows or  doorways. 

At  home  he  was  both  the  honored  guest  and  the 
beloved  idol  of  the  house.  His  mother  was  absolutely 
happy  at  having  him  with  her ;  and,  more  than  that, 
she  was  devoutly  grateful  that  the  year,  at  one  time 
regarded  with  so  much  apprehension,  had  been  so  pros- 
perous. She  forgave  him  his  pipe ;  she  ^ould  have  had 
her  house  filled  with  his  college  friends,  and  wotild 
herself  have  been  cook  and  housemaid  and  laundress 
for  them  all,  had  this  been  necessary,  to  gratify  her 
beloved  boy.  Xo  one  had  had  more  than  a  very  faint 
conception  of  the  anxiety  which  had  at  first  possessed 
her  heart. 

Kate  was  the  one  who  of  all  most  thoroughly  enjoyed 
these  days.  The  year's  separation  had  been  a  cruel  one 
for  her,  though  she  had  not  given  expression  to  her 
feelings ;  and  now  that  her  brother  was  her  own  once 
more,  her  exuberant  spirits  btibbled  over  in  complete 
happiness.  She  was  his  constant  companion;  and  in 
the  cool  morning,  or  the  delicious  evening  hours,  they 
visited  together  all  the  pleasant  spots  endeared  to 
them  by  the  memories  of  their  childhood.  She  was 
herself  too  active  and  full  of  life  to  permit  any  one  to 
indulge  in  laziness  in  her  presence  for  a  very  long- 
time. Moreover,  she  had  a  hundred  questions  to  ask 
with  genuine  womanly  curiosity;  and  as  he  had  a  ready 
answer  for  them  all,  and  a  large  fund  of  college  gossip 


228 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVARD. 


besides,  he  was  really  very  entertaining  company,  and 
she  soon  came  to  be  thoroughly  informed  on  all  clasfi 
matters.  A  single  scene  v/ill  serve  as  specimen  of 
many  in  their  experience.  Kate  was  sewing  in  the  cool 
hall  one  afternoon,  while  Sam  lay  extended  on  some 
cushions  near  the  doorway. 

"  What  ever  became  of  the  young  man  who  used  to 
stop  up  the  keyholes?"  she  asked. 

"  Alas,  poor  Tommy  !  "  and  Sam  threw  back  his  head, 
and  laughed  heartily  at  the  recollection.  "  Ho  has 
plugged  his  last  keyhole.  He  had  played  his  little 
game  on  all  th^  instructors  except  the  professor  in  elo- 
cution, to  whom  we  used  to  go  once  a  week  in  the  '  old 
chapel,'  and  who  contrived  to  render  the  hour  a  dis- 
agreeable one;  and  had  made  several  unsuccessful 
attempts  at  this  door.  At  last,  armed  with  a  slender 
file,  and  a  note  addressed  to  Joe,  whose  box  is  just 
opposite,  so  that  in  case  any  one  should  intercept  him 
he  might  pretend  he  was  there  for  the  sake  of  putting  a 
petition  in  the  regent's  box  "  — 

"  By  '  Joe  '  you  mean  the  regent :  that  isn't  his  name, 
of  course?" 

"Well,  that  is  what  everybody  calls  him.  Armed 
with  these  he  went  carefully  up  the  stairs  about  fifteen 
minutes  before  the  hour  for  recitation.  He  looked 
warily  around,  and,  as  the  coast  seemed  to  be  clear, 
rammed  the  file  securely  into  the  keyhole,  for  he  was 
determined  that  there  should  be  no  mistake  about  it 
this  time,  broke  it  off,  and  was  turning  to  go  down, 
when  lo !  there  was  the  President  with  his  head  thrust 
out  of  his  door,  which  was  only  a  few  feet  farther 
above,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  entr^^,  coolly  survey- 


SUMMEKTIDE. 


229 


ing  the  scene.    *  Good  morning,  Mr.  said  that 

functionary,  nodding  civilly  to  him,  while  his  eyes 
twinkled  mischievously.  Tommy  was  too  fl  astered  to 
say  a  word  for  himself;  and  forgetting  all  about  his  note 
and  the  regent's  box,  dashed  down  the  stairs;  and  a 
more  demoralized  youth  than  he  was  when  he  told  us 
about  it,  I  never  saw.  '  I  may  as  well  get  out  before  they 
kick  me  out,'  he  said,  mournfully ;  and  forthwith  took 
up  his  connection,  and  left  the  class  to  mourn  his  loss.'^ 
"  That  was  too  bad." 

"  Perhaps  it  was ;  but  as  he  never  studied  he  couldn't 
have  held  on  long  any  way." 

"  Would  the  President  have  reported  him  if  he  hadn't 
gone?" 

"  I  don't  really  think  he  would ;  for,  from  what  I  have 
seen  of  him,  he  doesn't  seem  to  be  that  kind  of  a  man. 
I  like  him  very  much  myself,  though  he  is  very  unpopu- 
lar among  the  students  generally." 

"  Unpopular  ?  I  always  imagined  that  the  President 
was  very  much  venerated  and  beloved." 

"  And  that  he  was  a  splendid  old  man,  with  elegant 
white  hair,"  said  Sam,  laughing  long  and  heartily  at  an 
idea  so  much  at  variance  with  the  fact.  "  I  doubt  if  it 
w*ould  make  much  difference  if  he  was.  I  don't  think 
Harvard  students  have  much  love  or  veneration  for  any 
thing,  at  least  any  thing  connected  with  the  college." 

"  Why  is  it  that  he  is  unpopular  ?  what  does  he  do  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  I  cannot  say;  he  does  nothing  so  far  as 
1  know.  He  is  a  very  learned  man,  kind-hearted,  and 
simple  in  his  ways ;  but  it  is  the  fashion  to  abuse  him, 
as,  indeed,  it  seems  to  be  the  fashion  to  grumble  at  a 
good  many  things;  and  the  Freshmen  fall  in  witk  the 

i 


230 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


rest  readily  enough.  He  undertook  to  give  us  a  course 
of  lectures ;  but  the  fellows  coughed,  and  shuffled  their 
feet,  and  made  such  a  racket  that  he  was  finally  obliged 
to  give  them  up ;  and  the  general  feeling  was  that  the 
class  had  done  a  smart  thing.  We  find  him  unpopular, 
and  we  leave  him  so.  I  don't  know  why,  as  I  said 
before,  unless  it  is  true,  as  some  one  said,  that  it  is 
impossible  for  a  president  to  do  his  duty,  and  be  popu- 
lar. There  is  no  doubt  that  he  is  very  fond  of  talking 
of  himself,  that  he  does  wear  the  worst  hats  I  ever  saw, 
and  that  he  puts  on  the  shabbiest  of  his  collection  to 
receive  distinguished  company." 

"  Are  none  of  your  professors  popular?  It  is  very 
strange  that  none  of  them  should  be  liked ; "  and 
Kate's  blue  eyes  looked  seriously  up  from  her  sewing. 

"  I  can't  truly  say  that  any  that  we  have  had  to  do 
with  yet  are.  Perhaps  the  reason  is,  that  we  never 
meet  them  except  as  instructors,  and  then  they  are 
our  natural  enemies.  It  won't  do  to  attempt  to  get 
acquainted  with  them :  if  you  do  you  are  a  '  toady.' 
For  my  part,  I  have  liked  them  all  well  enough." 

"  And  which  one  best  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.    I  have  had  the  best  marks  with 
*  Sandy,'  and  so  I  think  perhaps  I  like  him  as  well  as  any." 
"  Which  is  Sandy  ?  " 

"  Sandy  is  the  Greek  tutor,  a  sharp,  quick  little  man, 
far  from  being  a  general  favorite  ;  but,  as  the  fellows 
don't  dare  rough  him  at  recitation,  they  make  it  up  by 
telling  stories  about  him.  Now,  I  don't  vouch  for  any 
thing;  but  they  say  he  goes  off  on  sprees,  and  that  one 
night  last  winter  he  and  two  Seniors  were  coming  out 
in  the  last  car  from  Boston,  and  were  the  only  passe n- 


SUMMEETIDE. 


^31 


gers.  It  appears  that  Sandy  had  been  off  on  a  spree, 
and  had  just  wit  enough  left  to  get  on  to  the  car. 
It  was  a  yery  cold  night ;  and,  when  they  reached  the 
Port,  the  driyer  and  the  conductor  got  off  to  take 
something  warm.  The  two  Seniors  saw  their  oppor- 
tunity, and  quietly  shifted  the  horses  to  the  other  end 
of  the  car,  and  droye  back  to  town,  calling  out,  '  Har- 
yard  Square  I '  when  they  got  to  the  Reyere  ;  and  they 
had  no  end  of  fun  watchino;  Sandy  try  to  find  his  way  to 
his  room  in  Holworthy,  which  of  course  he  couldn't  do." 

"  That  may  do  for  a  story ;  but  it  is  not  a  yery  likely 
one." 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  to  belieye  it ;  but  they  tell  the 
funniest  stories  about  the  good  old  Doctor.  He  is  such 
a  splendid  old  fellow,  that  it  is  a  shame  to  repeat  any 
of  them  ;  "  and  Sam  laughed  at  his  thoughts. 

You  must  not  suppose  that  my  curiosity  is  going 
to  be  left  unsatisfied  in  tliis  fashion,  sir." 

"  Well,  they  say,  —  mind,  I  don't  at  all  youch  for  any 
of  their  stories:  slanders  they  are,  to  my  thinking, — 
but  they  say  his  wife  don't  allow  him  to  go  into  com- 
pany unless  she  or  some  of  his  family  go  with  him, 
because  he  pockets  the  silyer  spoons,  besides  always 
folding  up  the  napkin,  and  stowing  it  away." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  steals  !  "  exclaimed 
Kate,  in  a  shocked  manner. 

"  Oh,  bless  you,  no  !  only  he  is  so  yery  absent-minded, 
that  he  doesn't  realize  in  the  least  what  he  is  doing. 
They  say  he  frequently  meets  his  wife  in  the  street, 
and  touches  .  his  hat  politely,  and  then  ponders  the 
question  who  she  is,  without  being  able  to  think  it  out. 
They  say  that  soon  after  he  had  come  to  Cambridge, 


232 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


and  before  everybody  knew  him  and  his  odd  ways,  he 
went  to  the  post-office  one  morning,  and  asked,  'Are 
there  any  letters  for  me  ?  '  in  his  own  meek  Avay.  '  Who 
do  you  mean  by  me  ? '  said  the  clerk,  gruffly ;  and,  for 
the  life  of  him,  he  couldn't  think  of  his  own  name." 
"  How  ridiculous  !  " 

"  Likely  enough.  All  these  things  happened  before 
my  day ;  but  he  certainly  has  a  way  of  walking  with 
his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  his  head  bent  for- 
ward a  little,  and  staggering  from  one  edge  of  the  side- 
walk to  the  other;  and  he  is  a  very  early  riser;  and  they 
say  that  this  actually  happened,  though  it  was  before 
he  was  known  well,  —  that  a  policeman  arrested  him, 
and  was  taking  him  off  to  the  station-house,  mistaking 
him  for  a  reveller  on  his  way  home.  I  don't  believe  the 
policeman  part  of  it,  however,  for  I  think  the  doctor  is 
too  early  for  any  Cambridge  policeman.  They  say," 
continued  Sam,  after  a  laugh  to  himself  at  the  notion, 

that  he  actually  came  home  one  rainy  night,  and  put 
his  umbrella  to  bed,  and  stood  himself  up  behind  the 
entry  door,  and  that  he  never  would  have  discovered 
the  mistake  himself,  and  would  have  stood  there  all 
night  in  some  kind  of  a  brown  study,  only  his  wife,  who 
keeps  her  eye  on  him  continually,  and  is  on  the  lookout 
for  such  accidents,  rescued  him." 

"  That  is  absurd,  of  course." 
I  don't  say  that  it  is  not.  I  only  tell  the  stories  as 
they  have  been  told  to  me.  He  is  so  polite  that  he 
bows  and  touches  his  hat  to  everybody  he  meets,  with 
a  simple  dignity  and  grace  that  is  very  pleasant ;  lest  if 
he  were  to  trust  his  recollection,  he  might  fail  ..to  recog- 
nize and  salute  some.    So  one  day  he  walked  against 


SUMMERTIDE. 


233 


the  pump  in  the  square.  '  Ah,  excuse  me,  madam ! ' 
said  he,,  taking  off  his  hat,  and  bowing  politely ;  and 
one  day,  coming  in  contact  with  the  handle,  he  gave  it 
a  most  cordial  shake,  mistaking  it  for  a  friend's  hand. 

"  Now,  this  is  true,"  continued  Sam,  laughing,  "  so 
Miss  Eldredge  says :  she  had  it  of  the  girl  who  had 
it  of  the  girl  who  saw  it  done  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  is 
good  authority  enough.  At  a  tea-party  one  evening,  the 
doctor  became  deeply  engrossed  in  a  discussion.  There 
was  a  mischievous  young  lady  who  knew  all  about  his 
absent-mindedness,  sitting  next  to  him ;  and  near  by 
was  a  stand  of  custards,  on  which,  with  other  good 
things,  the  company  were  expected  to  regale  them- 
selves. She  gave  him  one,  which  in  the  pauses  of  the 
argument  he  speedily  devoured;  and  seeing  that  the 
spoon  was  unconsciously  returned  to  the  empty  glass 
for  more,  she  supplied  its  place  with  a  full  one  which 
was  soon  disposed  of,  when  she  substituted  another 
fresh  glass  in  place  of  the  empty  one,  and  so  continued 
until  the  doctor  had  eaten  seventeen,  and  the  stock 
was  exhausted.  The  company  could  contain  them- 
selves no  longer,  but  roared  with  laughter." 

Kate  laughed  too,  at  this. 

"  But  I  believe  this  story  even  less  than  the  others, 
probable  as  it  might  seem." 
"  Why  ?  "  in  a  laughing  voice. 

"  Because  I  know  that  the  doctor  is  too  polite  ever 
to  engage  in  a  discussion  in  company." 

"  He  is  very  much  liked,  is  he  not  ?  " 

"  That  he  is  !  I  excepted  him,  from  what  I  said  be- 
fore :  there  wouldn't  be  such  stories  about  him,  however, 
if  he  were  not  liked.    He  is  a  splendid  man ;  as  simple- 


234 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


hearted  as  a  child,  and  as  tender-hearted  as  a  woman. 
Everybody  respects  him ;  and  I  believe  the  students 
love  him  as  well  as  they  can  love  anybody,  considering 
the  manner  in  which  affairs  are  conducted.  He  never 
seems  to  think,  when  any  one  goes  to  him  with  a  state- 
ment, that  it  is  any  thing  except  the  truth.  He  is 
indeed  the  student's  friend,  ready  to  assist  one  and  all 
with  advice,  or,  if  one  needs  it,  with  money,  or  to  help 
them  get  work;  and  many  a  poor  student  owes  his 
education  to  the  kind-hearted  doctor.  You  ought  to 
have  heard  the  Seniors  cheer  him  on  class  day.  It  is 
not  usual  to  single  out  any  one  by  name ;  but  they 
called  out  his,  and  gave  him  nine  cheers,  and  then  nine 
more,  and  then  nine  more.  I  believe,"  said  Sam  with 
deepening  voice,  "  that  he  is  more  to  be  envied  than 
any  one  that  I  have  ever  seen." 

This  was  only  one  of  many  such  pleasant  times,  when 
the  young  man  had  a  thousand  things  to  tell.  Thus  the 
week  passed  very  quickly ;  and  on  the  morrow  their  quiet 
was  to  be  broken  in  upon,  and  they  were  all  three  sorry. 
"  Haven't  you  had  a  pleasanter  time  than  if  you  had 
gone  poking  off  to  the  mountains?"  was  Kate's  query, 
as  the  two  sat  in  the  broad  doorwaj^,  looldng  out  upon 
the  sea  spread  out  duskily  before  them,  and  listening  to 
the  low  hum  of  insect-life  which  filled  the  warm  sum- 
mer air,  on  the  last  evening  which  they  were  to  enjoy 
together,  before  Kate's  friend  should  come.  Sam  could 
only  say  that  he  had. 

As  the  brother  and  sister  sat  in  the  broad  doorway, 
her  head  resting  upon  his  shoulder,  and  supported  by 
his  strong  arm  (how  many  an  hour  had  they  as  boy 
and  girl  sat  thus  within  the  leafy  porch !),  she  little 


SUMMERTIDE. 


235 


dreamed  that  never  again  after  tliis  night  would  he 
be  quite  the  same  to  her.  She  could  not  foresee  that 
the  days  of  her  brother's  boyhood  were  fast  being 
numbered,  that  hereafter  another  would  be  first  in  those 
affections  which  had  up  to  this  hour  been  hers  alone. 
She  would  hardly  have  been  so  glad  to  see  her  dear 
Rose,  if  she  had  known  what  was  to  be  the  result  of 
the  visit. 

Kate  was  glad  to  see  Rose,  however,  and  drove  over 
to  the  station  herself,  seven  or  eight  miles,  to  meet  her, 
brought  her  home  in  triumph,  and  made  her  welcome 
in  her  own  cheerful  and  cordial  fashion.  She  monopo- 
lized her  entirely,  and  kept  her  in  the  cool  and  quiet  of 
her  room,  resting,  till  tea  brought  the  family  together, 
where  Sam  met  the  guest,  for  the  first  time  under  his 
own  roof. 

The  young  lady  looked  very  sweet  as  she  entered  the 
room,  all  the  more  interesting  from  a  slight  fatigue.  A 
little  drooping  of  the  eyelids,  and  paleness  of  the  lips, 
gave  her  a  most  captivating  expression ;  and  Sam  real- 
ized the  fact  to  the  bottom  of  his  very  soul,  as  with 
conscious  constraint  he  touched  for  a  moment  the 
hand  she  held  out  for  him  to  shake.  He  was  just 
returned  from  a  pull  across  the  bay  to  the  hotel,  to  see 
if  Villiers  had  come,  and  reported  his  arrival  that  very 
afternoon. 

"  You  must  have  come  on  the  same  train,"  he  said  to 
Rose. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  passed  him  by  at  the 
station,"  said  Kate  ;  adding  a  little  indignantly,  "  Why 
didn't  you  bring  him  back  with  you  to  tea  ?" 

"  I  did  my  best  to  bring  him,"  returned  Sam  ;  "but 


236 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


to  no  purpose.  It  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world,  if 
he  once  says  No,  to  make  him  take  it  back,  and  say 
Yes." 

"  I  presume  he  is  tired,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"  One  would  scarcely  think  him  so  determined  a  char- 
acter," said  Rose.  "  He  certainly  does  not  give  you 
that  impression,  to  look  at  him." 

"  One  would  hardly  get  a  single  correct  impression 
from  looking  at  him.  Miss  Thorne,"  said  Sam,  warmly. 
"  I  think  there  is  not  a  man  in  the  class  less  understood, 
as  there  certainly  is  not  one  worthy  of  more  universal 
admiration  and  regard ;  but  I  believe  he  will  be  appre- 
ciated before  Class  Day." 

The  ladies  had  really  very  little  cause  to  complain  of 
inattention  on  the  part  of  Villiers.  The  same  magnet 
that  had  drawn  him  to  this  almost  unknown  retreat  as 
a  resting-place  for  the  summer  was  sure  to  draw  him 
from  his  quarters  across  the  bay  to  his  classmate's 
home ;  and  indeed,  if  he  had  accepted  Mrs.  Wentworth's 
invitation,  and  become  her  guest  for  the  summer,  he 
would  hardly  have  trespassed  more  on  her  hospitality ; 
for,  after  they  once  met,  these  four  young  people 
were  together  most  of  the  time  day  and  evening  during 
the  next  four  weeks.  Sometimes  Mrs.  Wentworth 
made  one  of  the  party  when  they  went  out  for  a  moon- 
light sail  or  drive  ;  but  for  the  most  part  she  preferred 
to  remain  at  home.  It  was  enough  for  her,  that  her 
darlings  were  happy ;  and  of  a  truth  no  one  of  the  four 
was  afterwards  able  to  look  back  on  a  happier  season  in 
life  than  these  bright  summer  weeks.  Poor  Villiers 
had  many  a  dark  and  lonely  pull  across  the  bay ;  for  he 
always  insisted  on  going  home,  as  he  called  it,  no  mat- 


SUMlNrERTIDE. 


23T 


ter  liow  late  tlie  hour,  even  if  he  was  to  return  by  day- 
light the  next  morning.  But  what  is  four  miles  of  a 
starlit  summer  evening,  when  you  have  a  good  boat 
to  do  it  in  ?  Have  we  not  all  of  us  read  of  a  gallant 
3-oung  fellow  who  used  to  swim  a  stormy  sea  for  twice 
that  distance  almost,  and  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
be  with  his  love  ?  Mr.  Villiers  asked  no  ]}itj,  though 
the  ladies  pitied  him  a  great  deal,  and  condoled  with 
him  over  his  dreary  journeys.  There  was  always  some- 
thing planned,  before  they  parted  for  the  night,  to  bring 
them  together  the  next  morning,  sometimes  at  a  very 
early  hour,  and  to  make  the  day  pass  pleasantly,  —  a 
boating  party,  or  a  picnic  in  the  woods,  or  a  merry 
excursion  to  the  camp-meeting,  a  croquet  party,  or  a 
hop  at  the  hotel.  These  last  festivities  occurred  twice 
a  week,  though  the  young  people  did  not  care  to  attend 
them  so  often ;  and  then  Villiers  had  the  pleasure  of 
playing  host.  Of  course  it  was  nothing,  to  such  boat- 
ing characters  as  our  friends,  to  pull  home  four  miles 
after  an  evening's  dance.  In  such  simple  pleasure 
which  was  frequently  shared  by  Adams,  Miss  Eldredge, 
and  her  friends,  one  bright  and  happy  day  stole  away 
after  another,  bringing  sweet  content  for  all. 

Every  one  knew,  from  the  very  first,  that  Sam  was 
going  to  fall  hopelessly  in  love  with  Rose  Thorne ;  and 
he  would  have  been  no  true  son  of  Adam  if  he  had  not. 
Meeting  her  day  after  day,  in  the  pleasantly  familiar 
manner  which  had  come  to  be  accepted  by  all  four,  —  a 
girl  so  singularly  sweet  and  attractive,  —  the  catastrophe 
could  not  have  been  long  avoided,  even  if  his  heart  had 
not  gone  forth  from  his  keeping  that  first  time  when 
he  had  looked  down  into  her  clear  gray  eyes,  at  the 


238 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


regatta  ball.  He  had  lived  till  then  without  more 
than  a  passing  affection  for  any  lady ;  he  had  romped, 
when  a  boy,  with  the  pretty  girls  of  the  neighborhood, 
kissed  them  at  Copenhagen,  or  at  husking-parties,  but 
nothing  like  an  attachment  had  ever  existed.  His  sister 
had  been  his  very  constant  companion ;  and  he  had, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  compared  with  her  the  girls  he 
had  met  from  time  to  time.  His  instinct  had  told  him 
that  she  was  superior  to  them  all.  Thus  it  was  that  his 
affection  was  as  fresh  as  morning  dew,  as  pure  as  was 
ever  bestowed  by  high-born  maiden,  as  unsullied  as 
new-fallen  snow;  and  the  ardor  of  his  passion  grew  with 
each  succeeding  day.  He  soon  came  to  feel  an  unac- 
countable uneasiness  whenever  he  lost  sight  of  his 
goddess  for  half  an  hour ;  she  seemed  to  carry  away 
with  her,  when  she  went,  all  his  happy  spirits,  and 
even  the  very  sunsliine  of  day,  and  to  leave  all  blank 
and  dull  till  she  returned  :  though,  in  truth,  seldom  an 
hour  passed  that  they  were  not  together.  His  honest 
face  would  light  up  with  a  glow  of  pleasure  when  he 
met  her  in  the  morning ;  and  from  that  time  forth  till 
they  parted  for  the  night,  his  thoughts  were  of  her.  He 
was  a  most  devoted  esquire ;  and  Villiers  was  always  at 
hand,  to  look  after  Kate.  He  contrived  to  show  her  a 
thousand  little  attentions.  He  instructed  her  in  the 
art  of  boating,  in  which  she  seemed  more  than  usually 
interested.  He  looked  after  her  fishing-gear  with  most 
commendable  patience  ;  for,  bewitchingly  frightened  her- 
self, she  succeeded  in  getting  everything  in  a  snarl, 
every  time  that  she  drew  a  struggling  victim  into  the 
boat.  He  would  rush  into  a  swamp  to  pluck  brilliant 
blossoms  for  her  hair,  which  caught  his  eye  as  they 


SUMMERTIDE. 


239 


were  strolling  together  through  the  picturesque  wood- 
land ;  or  he  would  bring  her  armfuls  of  fragrant  water- 
lilies  (of  which  she  was  uncommonly  fond),  that  he  had 
tramped  off  in  the  early  morning  to  procure.  He  was 
her  invariable  partner  at  the  dances  and  at  croquet  5 
and  the  intimacy  ripened  apace. 

Once  when  Sam  and  Rose  were  on  their  way  to  join 
a  party  who  were  out  for  a  picnic ;  and  preferred  the 
route .  by  water,  and  a  mile  through  the  woods  and 
fields,  to  the  long  drive  around,  over  rough  roads,  they 
wanted  to  land  on  a  beach,  and  the  boat  grounded 
twenty  yards  from  the  line  of  the  dry  sand. 

"I  don't  see  but  I  shall  have  to  carry  you  ashore,'* 
Sam  said  :  "  or  Ave  shall  have  to  give  up  for  to-day." 

"  That  will  never  do,"  replied  she,  blushing  just  a 
little  :  "  you  would  get  so  very  wet." 

But  Sam  was  already  in  the  water.  "  Come,"  said 
he,  holding  out  his  arms.  "  I  am  sorry ;  but  there  is  no 
other  way." 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  am  too  heavy,"  she  protested,  laugh- 
ingly. 

But  he  carried  her  to  the  shore,  nevertheless  ;  though 
his  heart  beat  so  fast  that  he  was  well-nigh  exhausted 
before  he  could  deposit  his  fair  burden  on  the  dry 
ground. 

As  for  Miss  Thorne,  she  accepted  all  his  attentions 
with  the  utmost  grace.  Always  a  perfect  lady,  she 
was  at  once  ignorant  of  prudery  or  boldness.  Her 
manner  was  an  embodiment  of  simplicity  and  charming 
frankness,  that  was  irresistible ;  and  the  most  careful 
observer  could  detect  no  trace  of  coquetry.  She  was 
kind-hearted  and  considerate  too,  preferring  the  happi- 


240 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARB. 


ness  of  others  to  lier  own.  She  appeared  always  the 
same,  —  never  vexed,  never  hurried,  never  untidily 
dressed,  always  equally  fresh,  beautiful,  and  charming. 
She  accepted  the  friendship  of  her  new  acquaintances 
at  once,  recognized  Sam  as  her  especial  escort  and  com- 
panion, and  admitted  him  to  an  agreeable  intimacy  at 
the  very  first.  "  Call  me  Rose,  please,"  she  said  to 
him,  with  a  charming  smile,  before  she  had  been  twenty- 
four  hours  his  sister's  guest.  "  It  is  shorter  than  Miss 
Thorne  ;  and  I  like  it  better  from  my  friends;  "  so  be- 
tween these  two,  it  had  been  "  Rose  "  and  Sam,"  almost 
from  the  first. 

What  wonder  that  this  overgrown  boy,  who  had 
never  before  known  intimately  a  single  girl  beside 
his  sister,  should  soon  come  to  worship  the  very  hem 
of  her  garment?  How  could  any  one  expect  him  to 
look  into  the  future,  and  ask  himself  where  all  this  love 
and  moonshine  was  to  end  ?  He  only  knew  that  she 
was  his  goddess,  and  that  she  carried  the  light  and  life 
of  the  world  around  with  her.  Why  should  he  even 
dream  that  this  faultlessly  beautiful  creature  might  be, 
after  all,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  as  devoid  of  heart 
as  the  most  impassive  block  of  marble  ?  No  ;  for  him 
the  future  was  one  fairy  dream  of  happiness,  if,  indeed, 
the  future  concerned  him  aught.  Yet  he  had  reason  to 
be  Avar  e  ;  for,  though  no  one  had  ever  charged  Rose 
Thorne  with  coquetry,  those  who  knew  her  intimately 
and  well  could  have  told  that  she  had  made  more  than 
one  honest  heart  ache. 


XV. 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 

All  through  the  bright  summer  season  Villiers  wasted 
none  of  his  opportunities.  Not  a  day  passed  that  he 
did  not  pull  his  boat  across  the  bay  and  up  to  the  time- 
worn  landing  formed  of  decaying  logs  interspersed  with 
patches  of  grass,  climb  the  steep  pathway  winding  uj) 
to  the  broad  lawn  spread  out  before  the  house,  and  pre- 
sent himself  at  his  classmate's  door.  He  and  Kate 
Wentworth  were  rapidly  becoming  fast  friends. 

Yilliers  was  not  one  to  rush  impetuously  into  any 
undertaking,  nor  to  suffer  any  indication  of  his  passion, 
however  slight,  to  manifest  itself  by  word  or  deed,  after 
he  had  once  made  up  his  mind  that  his  true  course  of 
action  was  to  bide  his  time.  For  this  reason  he  made 
proffer  of  friendship  only  to  the  young  girl,  which  her 
coy  confidence  was  won  to  accept,  by  his  dignified, 
respectful  courtesy,  and  the  faith  in  his  strict  sincerity 
which  his  character  was  adapted  to  inspire.  Perhaps 
it  would  have  puzzled  her  to  describe  the  charm  Yilliers 
had  for  her.  He  was  very  far  from  being  handsome ; 
but  Kate  soon  ceased  to  think  about  his  looks.  He  was 
not  especially  well  schooled  in  etiquette ;  and  yet  his 
manner  was  always  that  of  a  gentleman,  characterized 
by  a  grave  dignity  that  was  often  amusing.  There 

241 


242 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


seemed  to  be  something  about  him  that  called  forth  her 
best  thoughts  and  feelmgs.  She  could  not  yet  know 
that  the  magnetic  attractiveness  which  she  often  felt 
surrounded  him  was  the  result  of  a  finely  organized 
nature,  that  had  been  developed,  so  far  as  was  possible  j 
in  so  young  a  man,  into  the  perfection  of  Christian 
character.  ! 

It  does  not  seem  that  this  young  man,  grave,  homely,  \ 
dignified,  severe  even,  would  be  likely  to  win  the  love  j 
of  such  a  high-spirited,  laughter-loving  girl  as  Kate  j 
Went  worth,  conscious  of  her  beauty  and  power  .  to 
please,  loving  gay  company,  and  fond  of  admiration,  her 
whole  nature  inspired  by  romance.  He  was  undoubt- 
edly winning  her  esteem  and  most  implicit  confidence  ; 
elevating  her  standard  of  ideal  manhood,  which  she 
would  unconsciously  apply  when  others  came  a-wooing 
by  and  by,  and  perchance  stealing  her  affections ;  for 
who  can  say  what  it  is  that  wins  a  maiden's  heart?  Who 
discovers  that  secret  more  precious  to  every  man,  at 
some  hour  of  his  life,  than  the  long-dreamed-of  philoso- 
pher's stone,  and  often  more  baf&ing  than  the  ever- 
retreating  object  of  the  alchemist's  search?  Mayhap  a 
bunch  of  flowers  accidentally  given,  some  trifling  atten- 
tion at  the  fortunate  moment,  a  pressure  of  the  hand,  a 
glance  of  the  eye,  when  the  heart  is  softened  and  the 
feelings  are  warm,  some  little  incident  wliich  accident 
magnifies,  —  who  has  not  seen  matters  like  these  turn 
the  scale,  while  years  of  patient,  honest,  ge:atlemanly 
devotion,  and  undespairing  hope,  failed  of  their  reward  ? 
We  cannot  even  guess,  therefore,  what  place  Villiers  held 
in  his  mistress's  heart,  or  whether  he  had  ever  gained 
admission  there  at  all ;  for  such  a  secret  the  young  girl 
would  guard  even  from  herself. 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


243 


In  this  simple,  idyllic  fashion  the  summer  stole  soft!}' 
away:  the  three  weeks  of  Miss  Thome's  visit  had  already 
grown  into  four,  and  the  fifth  was  passing  only  too  fast. 
She  was  to  go  home  on  the  morrow :  and  her  departure 
was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  Huntingdon  had 
been  a  guest  at  ]\Irs.  Wentwortlrs  for  more  than  a 
week  ;  and  Haskill  had  stolen  away  at  the  earliest 
opportunity  from  his  Western  home,  and  was  domiciled 
imder  the  same  roof.  The  old  mansion  had  opened  its 
doors,  and  welcomed  a  score  of  other  young  people  also 
into  its  quaint  apartments,  and  had  been  gayer  almost 
than  at  any  time  since  Colonial  times  ;  for  the  dis^^osition 
to  make  the  most  of  these  last  days  of  vacation  had 
prevailed,  and  there  had  been  feasting  and  dancing 
and  music  and  croquet  almost  without  stint. 

When  Haskill  first  presented  himself,  he  was  so 
changed  in  appearance  that  his  friends  almost  doubted 
his  identity.  His  hair  was  no  longer  "filed,"  as  in  the 
summer,  but  was  of  a  very  decent  length  indeed,  and 
nicely  arranged  instead  of  standing  out  in  every  direc- 
tion. He  not  only  wore  a  coat  all  the  time,  which  he 
could  not  well  avoid  in  the  company  of  ladies,  but  had 
a  variety  of  these  garments,  new  and  of  faultless  fashion, 
which  he  donned  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  hour. 
His  foot,  which  was  the  slimmest,  was  incased  in  the 
most  exquisite  of  French  boots  ;  his  scarfs  were  wonder- 
ful in  variety,  pattern,  and  hue  ;  he  appeared  in  gloves 
on  every  possible  occasion,  smoked  less  than  half  the 
time,  talked  slang  only  by  accident,  and  hi3  hands  were 
never  in  his  pockets  except  when  he  forgot  himself; 
while  the  dignity  with  which  he  comported  himself 
was  most  refreshing.    He  had  begun  his  journey  of 


244 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


more  than  fifteen  hundred  miles  witli  tlie  full  determi- 
nation of  offering  his  hand  and  heart  to  Kate.  Most 
unaccountably,  as  he  thought,  his  courage  had  oozed 
away  as  the  distance  which  separated  him  from  the 
object  of  his  affections  diminished,  till,  when  he  stood 
in  the  merry  girl's  presence,  and  saw  her  surrounded  by 
admirers  (for  he  came  at  a  time  when  the  house  hap- 
pened to  be  full  of  the  guests  of  an  afternoon),  the  last 
vestige  of  his  resolution  vanished.  Kate  was  kind  to 
him  too,  welcomed  him  as  heartily  as  any  one  could 
have- wished,  and  took  him  under  her  protection,  and 
petted  him,  till  Huntingdon's  face  grew  as  black  as  a 
thunder-cloud,  and  even  Villiers  looked  with  severe 
eyes.  She  was  kind  to  him  too,  afterwards,  but  he  felt 
that  it  was  not  in  the  riglit  way :  so  after  an  hour's 
reflection,  in  which  he  was  nearer  being  blue  than  he 
had  ever  been  in  his  life  before,  he  gave  it  up. 

"  What's  the  use  of  my  trying  to  play  the  fine  gentle- 
man, and  compete  with  such  a  swell  as  that  Hunting- 
don ? "  he  said,  half  bitterly.  "  It's  like  every  thing 
else,  not  to  be  learned  in  a  day  ;  and  he's  been  at  it  all 
his  life.  He'd  give  me  all  the  points  I  might  ask  for, 
and  beat  me  every  time.  Fine  feathers  don't  make  fine 
birds ;  not  if  I  know  myself,  and  I  believe  I  do  inti- 
mately." 

Accordingly  he  went  back  to  his  pipe  and  his  odd 
ways,  told  his  funny  stories,  and,  forgetting  his  grande 
passion^  as  he  loved  to  call  it,  devoted  himself  to  Mrs. 
Wentworth  (who  had  been  a  little  neglected  and  forgot- 
ten in  all  this  love-making  and  gayety,)  and  was  vastly 
entertaining  to  the  ladies,  and  much  happier  than  when 
he  had  tried  to  put  on  airs.    Yes,  he  devoted  himself  to 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


245 


Mrs.  Wentworth  with  almost  lover-like  assiiiuity ;  and 
it  was  lionest  devotion  and  admiration  too. 

"  Your  mother  comes  nearer  to  being  an  angel  than 
any  woman  I  ever  expected  to  see  on  earth/'  he  said 
suddenly  to  Kate,  one  day,  in  his  rough,  blunt  fashion, 
"  She  is  prettier,  too,  than  any  of  you  girls.'' 

"  I  quite  -agree  with  you,"  returned  Kate,  with  a  gra- 
cious smile  ;  for  his  taste  was  not  much  at  fault.  In 
her  simple  white  dress,  with  her  dark  waw  hair  and 
loving  face,  her  slight  and  almost  girlish  figure,  and 
with  her  gentle,  winsome  manner,  jNIrs.  Wentworth  was 
a  very  angel  of  goodness  in  the  eyes  of  others  besides 
this  young  Westerner.  She  had  won  his  heart  simply 
by  being  kind  to  him  ;  and  it  is  doubtful  if  any  one  had 
ever  shown  him  such  womanly  kindness  before.  He 
would  have  gone  through  fire  to  do  her  or  hers  a  favor. 

On  the  morrow,  Miss  Thorne  was  going  home  ;  and  in 
a  few  clays  more  at  best,  all  these  good  friends  were  to 
part  company  for  a  time.  But  Sam  had  bespoken  Miss 
Thome's  company  for  a  drive  on  the  last  evening  of  her 
visit ;  and  Kate  had  engaged  her  to  take  this  occasion, 
and  prefer  a  petition  to  her  brother. 

"It  is  that  odious  pipe  of  his,"'  she  said,  earnestly. 
"  He  will  persist  in  smoking  it  just  to  see  it  turn  brown, 
though  he  doesn't  half  like  it ;  and  I  know  it  does  him 
no  good.  Mamma  dislikes  it  as  much  as  I  do,  though 
she  says  nothing  to  him  ;  and  I  am  afraid  that  another 
year  will  confirm  the  habit.  Won't  you  tell  him  how 
disagreeable  it  is,  and  ask  him  to  leave  it  off  ?  I  shall 
be  so  much  obliged  to  you,  and  so  will  mamma;"  and 
sweet  Miss  Rose  declared  her  entire  willin^TLess  to  do 
any  thing  for  her  dear  Kate.    She  was  tying  on  her  hat 


246 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


and  drawing  on  her  gloves  during  tliis  little  interview, 
Kate  assisting  by  way  of  giving  a  final  touch  to  ribbon 
or  draper}',  Rose  looking  as  charming  all  the  while  as  a 
mortal  maiden  could ;  and  she  went  out,  with  just  the 
faintest  tinge  in  her  cheeks,  to  Sam,  who  had  been  im- 
patiently waiting  her  coming,  striding  up  and  down  the 
driveway,  snapping  with  his  whip  at  the '  shrubs  and 
flowers.  A  careful  observer  would  have  said  at  once 
that  there  was  something  on  his  mind  ;  but  the  nervous 
manner  passed  away  at  sight  of  Rose.  Crisp  with  fresh 
drapery,  and  radiant  with  glowing  life,  what  wonder  that 
in  her  lover's  infatuated  eyes  she  "  looked  a  goddess, 
and  walked  a  queen  "  ?  Don't  forget,"  called  Kate, 
kissing  her  hand  from  the  doorway  as  they  drove  off. 
She  looked  after  them  till  they  disappeared  behind  the 
oaks,  and  then  turned,  half-musingiy,  toward  the  house. 

The  twain  drove  on  in  silence  through  the  country, 
over  which  the  violet-purple  mantle  of  twilight  was 
fast  falling,  amid  the  deep  stillness  of  an  exquisite 
summer  evening.  Now  sombre  but  fragrant  pines 
arose  on  either  hand,  and  the  white  thread  of  the  road 
was  lost  in  the  dim  and  dusky  distance.  Presently  the 
pines  were  left  behind,  and  the  prospect  presented  only 
acres  of  tangled  undergrov/th,  stretching  inimitably 
awa}^,  and  lost  in  the  dim  distance.  As  they  gained 
the  summit  of  a  hill,  and  looked  down  into  the  valley 
before  them.  Rose  uttered  a  little  cry  of  alarm,  and  not 
without  reason ;  for  right  before  them,  the  road  appar- 
ently leading  through  it,  there  seemed  spread  out  a 
broad  smooth  lake. 

"  Isn't  that  water?  "  asked  Rose,  a  little  frightened  at 
seeing  that  they  were  rapidly  driving  down  into  it. 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


247 


"  Ah,  no  :  only  mist,  though  the  delusion  is  perfect. 
We  often  see  it  of  an  evening  late  in  the  summer  or 
fall.  See,  it  is  behind  us  now.  As  soon  as  the  moon 
rises  it  will  disappear." 

Again  they  drove  on  in  silence.  The  shadow  of 
parting  was  very  near,  —  only  till  to-morrow.  Though 
Sam  was  to  go  back  to  Cambridge  so  soon,  and  not  be 
far  from  her,  he  felt  that  the  separation  was  to  be  for  a 
very  long  time,  —  as  though  there  would  be  something 
more  than  the  mere  distance  dividing  them.  It  was 
a  feeling,  a  vague  presentiment,  and  was  to  prove  quite 
groundless ;  but  he  had  been  thinking  about  it  a  good 
deal  of  late  ;  and  he  thought  too,  that  perhaps  his 
attentions  had  not  been  such  as  to  lead  Miss  Thorne  to 
think  that  she  was  more  to  him  than  a  very  pleasant 
acquaintance  :  though  how  the  young  fellow  could  have 
been  more  devoted,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say.  He 
was  impulsive,  and  by  no  means  like  Yilliers,  one  who 
could  wait  and  bide  his  time ;  and  he  had  determined 
that  before  the  young  lady  went  home  he  would  in  some 
way  give  her  to  know  hov/  much  he  cared  for  her ; 
and  now  here  was  his  very  last  opportunity  slipping 
away  from  him.  Still  they  drove  on  in  silence,  with  no 
sound  save  the  regular  "  clack  !  clack !  "  of  the  horse's 
hoofs,  the  rattling  of  the  v/heels  over  the  stony  way, 
and  the  drowsy  creaking  of  the  chaise  when  the  pace 
slackened  to  a  walk.  Presently  the  moon  rose  up,  and 
poured  hur  mellow  light  over  hill  and  valley,  silvered 
the  tops  of  the  groves,  and  brought  out  the  delicate 
lights  and  deep  shadows,  and  rendered  dimly  visible 
the  tranquil  surface  of  the  distant  ocean.  Still  tiiej 
drove  on  in  silence. 


248  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


It  was  very  little  Sam  cared  for  the  moon  then,  oi 
any  thing  save  his  Rose,  and  how  he  should  put  his 
feelings  into  words.  It  was  no  part  of  his  design  to 
ask  her  to  marry  him,  or  even  to  love  him,  but  only 
to  let  her  know  that  he  cared  truly  for  her ;  but  how  to 
bring  that  out,  was  the  problem.  This  was  his  first 
experience  at  making  love ;  and  thus  far  it  was  any 
thing  but  pleasant.  Nothing  that  he  had  ever  attempted 
in  his  life  could  be  compared  with  it  for  awkwardness 
and  discomfort;  his  first  boat-race  was  not  a  circum- 
stance, and  that  had  tried  him  a  good  deal.  If  it  had 
only  been  Huntingdon  here  in  his  place,  how  he  would 
have  talked !  how  smoothly  and  insinuatingly  and  elo- 
quently! But  it  was  only  Sam, — poor  Sam!  —  and  he 
was  utterly  inexperienced ;  and  as  the  golden  moments 
slipped  by,  he  found  himself  farther  than  ever  from  the 
dcbired  end. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  turn  and  drive  home  now," 
said  Rose,  coolly,  after  a  time.  (She  had  been  wonder- 
ing what  made  Sam  so  very  stupid.)  "  We  have  had  a 
long  drive,  and  you  know  I  have  ever  so  much  packing 
to  do  to-night." 

So,  very  reluctantly,  he  turned  the  horse's  head,  well 
knowing  that  it  would  not  require  half  the  time  to 
go  home  that  had  been  consumed  thus  far.  Again  they 
rode  on  in  silence.  The  young  fellow  would  never 
have  dared  to  open  his  mouth  on  the  subject  which  was 
so  near  his  heart ;  but  his  companion,  who  had  on  her 
part,  as  we  have  seen,  a  promise  to  fulfil,  and  who  was 
not  in  the  least  embarrassed  by  the  task,  presently 
spoke. 

Rose.  —  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  give  me  some- 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


249 


thing  which  I  know  you  prize  highly,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  make  me  a  promise.    Will  you  ? 

She  turned  her  fair  face  to  him  so  that  the  yellow 
moonlight  fell  full  upon  it. 

Sam  (a  little  startjed  by  this  unexpected  statement). 
—  To  be  sure :  any  thing  I  have  I  should  be  glad  to 
give  you;  and  (after  a  little  hesitation)  I  will  make 
you  any  reasonable  promise. 

Rose.  —  Well,  nothing  could  be  more  reasonable  than 
this.  Give  me  your  pipe,  and  promise  me  never  to 
smoke  again ;  and  she  held  out  a  white  and  dimpled 
hand,  which  her  companion  attempted  though  unsuc- 
cessfully, to  capture. 

Sam  (to  the  horse,  which  was  going  at  too  fast  a 
pace).  —  Whoa!  Whoa!  (To  Rose,  in  a  vexed  tone). 
My  pipe !  This  is  some  of  Kate's  doings,  I  am  sure : 
you  would  never  have  thought  of  it  yourself. 

He  was  not  in  the  least  pleased  at  having  his  curiosity 
and  hope  dashed  down  by  so  unromantic  a  statement, 
though  what  he  had  really  expected  cannot  be  guessed. 

Rose  (again  extending  her  hand).  —  I  am  waiting 
for  it.  I  always  perceive  when  you  have  it  with  you, 
and  it  is  in  your  pocket  this  minute. 

Sam  (slowly  drawing  forth  the  pipe).  —  Here  it 
is ;  but  I  can't  see  what  pleasure  it  is  going  to 
afford  you,  or  what  profit :  you  can't  want  it  for  a  keep- 
sake, and  I  shall  have  to  buy  another.  It  was  getting  to 
be  so  sweet,  and  such  a  beautiful  color  too ! 

Rose  (quickly). — Ah,  I  don't  care  for  it  unless  I 
have  your  promise  not  to  smoke  too  ;  and  I  shall  claim 
that,  as  you  agreed. 

Sam  (laughing). — Ah,  for  once  I  thought  before  I 


250 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HArVaED. 


spoke.  I  said  "  any  reasonable  promise,"  and  you  will 
liave  to  convince  me  first;  and  I  can  assure  you  I  shall 
be  hard  to  persuade.  ' 

Rose.  —  Well,  then,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  an  ex- 
pensive habit. 

Sam.  —  Of  course ;  but  you  must  recollect  that  it 
is  a  luxury,  and  all  our  luxuries  and  pleasures  have  to 
be  paid  for :  so  why  not  pay  for  this,  if  one  chooses  ? 

Rose  (with  expression  slightly  ruffled). — In  the 
second  place,  it  is  an  injurious  habit. 

She  must  have  matured  her  plan  of  attack  during 
the  silence  of  the  first  part  of  the  drive. 

Sam  (pleasantly).  —  Now,  I  deny  that,  Rose.  That 
is  a  question  on  which  the  doctors  disagree.  It  is  by 
no  means  certain  that  a  moderate  amount  of  smoking  is 
not  a  positive  benefit;  and  you  know  I  indulge  very 
sparingly.  No,  I  don't  think  reason  number  two  weighs 
with  me  as  much  as  reason  number  one. 

Sam  had  been  all  over  the  ground  with  Kate  a  score 
of  times,  and  was  tolerably  familiar  with  the  argu- 
ments both  pro  and  con. 

Rose  (triumphantly). — At  all  events,  it  is  exceed- 
ingly disagreeable :  any  lady  will  tell  you  that ;  and  I 
am  sure  that  reason  ought  to  be  all-sufficient  with  a 
gentleman. 

Sam  (half  laughing). —  It  would  seem  so,  certainly, 
if  I  really  believed  that.  But  I  have  heard  you  say 
yourself  that  you  didn't  like  a  man  to  be  too  perfect; 
that  you  preferred  one  with  some  faults,  with  a  little 
dash  of  old  Adam  about  him ;  and  I  believe  your  taste 
is  not  peculiar  in  this.  Now,  suppose  one  has  this 
fault. 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


251 


Rose.  —  Well,  then,  I  wish  it.  I  wonder  if  that  is 
enough.  Where  are  you  driving?  (as  the  horse 
strayed  from  the  beaten  track).  You  seem  bewitched 
this  evening.  I  believe  I  shall  have  to  take  the  reins 
into  my  own  hands. 

Sam  (surrendering  them,  with  a  longing  look  at  the 
beautiful  face  on  which  the  soft  moonlight  shone,  while 
the  rest  of  her  figure  was  in  deep  shadow).  —  I  know 
I  am. 

There  was  silence  for  a  time  ;  and  Rose  might  almost 
have  heard  Sam's  heart  beat  if  she  had  cared  to  listen, 
though  indeed  she  drove  on  quite  unconcernedly. 

Sam  (after  a  pause,  seriously).  —  You  ask  a  good 
deal  more  of  me,  Rose,  than  you  have  an  idea  of.  It 
will  be  a  very  difficult  promise  to  keep,  and  one  that  I 
don't  think  I  should  care  to  make  for  all  time,  forever, 
as  you  say.  All  the  fellows  smoke  ;  and,  though  I  don't 
care  so  very  much  for  it  myself,  wdien  I  am  with  them, 
it  will  be  hard  not  to  join  them,  and  I  know  just  how 
hard,  too.  Still  I  could  keep  my  word,  and  (very 
slowly)  I  don't  know  but  I  will  promise  for  a  year,  if 
you  really  wish  me  to. 

Rose,  —  To  be  sure  I  wish  it  (looking  half  curiously, 
half  seriously  at  him). 

Sam,  —  But  I  have  some  curiosity  to  discover  how 
much  you  really  wish  it.  If  I  promise,  it  will  be  to 
oblige  you ;  and,  if  I  do  so  much  to  oblige  you,  you  — 
you  ougnt  to  be  willing  to  oblige  me  in  something. 

Rose  (her  curiosity  a  little  piqued).  —  You  know, 
Sam,  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  do  any  thing  to  please 
you  (and  she  half  extended  her  hand,  almost  the  only 
impuldve  action  of  which  she  was  ever  known  to  be 


252 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAI  VAKD. 


guilty,  tliougli  it  was  quickly  withdrawn)  ;  that  is  (she 
added  with  a  soft  laugh)  anything  that  is  "reasonable." 

Sam.  —  And  I  must  convince  you  now  — 

Rose.  —  To  be  sure. 

But  there  was  now  very  little  curiosity,  and  not  the 
slightest  perceptible  trace  of  emotion,  in  her  voice  and 
manner.  She  sat  there  as  serenely  composed  as  was  her 
wont,  the  moonlight  touching  her  beautiful  figure  with 
a  peculiar  tenderness,  as  if  there  was  nothing  more  im- 
portant before  her  than  to  drive  safely  home,  the  counter- 
part of  the  eager,  expectant  boy  at  her  side. 

Sam  (after  a  silence  of  a  moment) .  —  I  will  promise 
you  not  to  smoke  for  a  year,  if  you  will  give  me  a  kiss. 

Rose.  —  Oh,  Sam,  you  frighten  me  !  (drawing  away 
from  him).  Indeed  you  do.  What  an  unreasonable 
request ! 

Sam.  —  I  don't  see  any  cause  for  being  frightened. 
(The  Rubicon  was  passed ;  and  he  felt  no  diffidence  now 
in  urging  his  suit,  though  the  words  had  been  so  hard  to 
speak.)  If  the  bargain  is  not  a  perfectly  fair  one,  it  is 
I  who  am  going  to  have  the  hardest  part  of  it. 

And  he  put  up  his  face  with  the  best  smile  that  he 
could  command. 

The  only  reply  the  young  lady  vouchsafed  to  this 
was  to  retire  as  far  as  possible  into  her  corner  of  the 
chaise.  The  horse  took  his  own  pace  and  his  own 
road.  "  It  can't  be  so  very  hard  nor  so  very  bad,"  he 
said,  ruefully.  "  Oh,  I  know  now  just  how  much  you 
care,  on  your  own  part,  about  my  promise."  Then  as 
he  sat  looking  at  her  retiring  figure,  her  enchanting 
beauty,  and  her  soft  eyes,  the  temptation  was  irresisti- 
ble ;  he  half  bent  over  her,  half  drew  her  to  him,  and 
kissed  her  moist,  sweet  lips. 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


253 


The  remainder  of  the  drive  home  was  in  sile  ace. 

Thus  had  Sam  bartered  away  his  freedom  for  a  single 
kiss,  —  his  freedom  in  more  senses  than  one ;  for  that 
brief  sweet  contact  was  to  him  a  revelation  :  henceforth 
the  world  was  a  new  world  to  him ;  he  felt  all  at  once 
that  he  had  an  object  to  achieve,  and  that,  till  that  end 
was  accomplished,  he  could  know  no  satisfaction  or  rest. 

That  night  sleep  was  an  impossibility  with  the  young 
fellow ;  and,  stealing  down  from  his  room,  he  loosed  a 
dory  from  its  moorings,  and  pulled  far  out  on  the  swell- 
ing ocean,  with  no  company  save  the  stars,  the  wild  sea, 
and  his  own  wilder  thoughts,  till  at  last  his  feverish 
brain  grew  more  composed;  and  as  he  climbed  the 
stairs  the  first  rays  of  the  morning  sun  shone  through 
the  leafy  window,  and  touched  his  haggard  face. 

"  Remember  you  are  to  come  the  very  day  that 
Thanksgiving  recess  is  ended,  and  that  I  shall  keep  you 
for  the  rest  of  the  winter,"  called  Rose  from  the  car- 
riage to  Kate,  when  she  nodded  good-by  to  all  the  com- 
pany that  stood  in  the  porch  to  see  her  off,  as  Sam 
whirled  her  away  for  the  train.  "I  hope  to  see  you, 
Mr.  Yilliers,  and  you  too,  Mr.  Huntingdon,"  she  had 
said ;  "  and  I  should  feel  very  sorry  indeed  if  I  thought 
my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Haskill  was  to  end  here ; " 
and  she  had  extended  her  hand  to  that  gentleman  most 
cordially,  who,  a  little  taken  aback  at  this  unexpected 
kindness,  said  that  if  he  knew  himself  he  thought  he 
should  be  sorry  too,  but  he  was  sure  the  acquaintance 
would  not  soon  end.  Sam's  own  invitation  was  not  given 
till  just  as  the  cars  were  coming.  "I  release  you  from 
your  promise  of  last  evening,"  she  said :  "  it  was  too  much 


254 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


to  give  for  so  little.  Come  over  to  tea  Thursday  after- 
noon, or  as  soon  as  ever  you  can,"  and  half  in  the  confu- 
sion of  the  moment,  or  perhaps  because  she  meant  it, 
having  a  vague  impression  of  the  depth  of  Sam's  feel- 
ings, and  choosing  to  express  her  sorrow,  she  put  up  her 
lips  with  just  the  faintest  tinge  in  her  cheeks.  In  an 
instant  the  cars  were  bearing  her  away.  Perhaps  she 
was  as  fond  of  Sam  as  she  had  ever  been  of  any  one, 
perhaps  as  fond  of  him  as  she  could  be  of  any  one. 
The  young  fellow  drove  home  in  a  very  seventh  heaven 
of  happiness. 

Huntingdon  and  Villiers  each  appeared  unwilling  to 
go,  and  leave  the  other  in  possession  of  the  field. 
Huntingdon's  quick  eye  discerned  at  a  glance  what 
a  firm  friendship  had  grown  up  between  Villiers  and 
Kate,  and  he  had  determined  to  make  up  the  lost 
ground  at  once  ;  and  Villiers,  usually  the  most  retiring 
and  diffident  of  young  gentlemen,  had  bated  not  a  whit 
his  attentions  to  that  young  lady,  but  had  been,  if  possi- 
ble, more  assiduous  since  Huntingdon's  arrival :  so  that 
there  was  really  no  love  lost  between  the  two.  They 
finally  took  their  departure  on  the  same  train.  Nothing 
called  Haskill  away  till  the  regular  exercises  of  the 
year  should  begin ;  and  he  still  tarried,  loath  to  leave 
his  new  home,  for  such  it  seemed  to  him. 

All  four  were  sitting  in  the  dusk,  while  Kate  was 
playing  at  the  piano,  silent  save  for  the  music,  —  a  soft 
melody  as  soothing  as  the  hour,  —  and  occupied  with 
their  own  thoughts.  Curiously  enough,  as  it  would 
seem,  Sam  was  the  only  one  who  looked  eagerly  for- 
ward to  a  return  to  college  life.    Huntingdon  had 


BY  MOONLIGHT. 


255 


voted  the  coming  year,  Tvith  its  mathematics,  a  most 
unmitigated  nuisance  :  Villiers  had  more  than  once 
wished  the  vacation  vrere  longer ;  Hashill  was  loud  in 
expressing  his  disgust ;  but  Sam  was  eager  to  leave  his 
home,  and  these  two  women  who  would  have  died  for 
him. 

"  To-morrow."  he  said  briskly,  as  the  music  ceased, 
"  to-morrow  we  go  back  once  more."' 

Vrell,""  said  Haskill,  "  I  suppose  there  is  no  help  for 
it  but  that  we  must.  The  everlasting  grind,  prayers  at 
daylight,  boarding-house  hash,  metaphysics  and  logic 
and  all  that  nonsense — bah  I  I'm  sick  of  it  before  I 
begin." 

Kate  laughed  merrily  at  the  lugubrious  tone  of  the 
Senior.  "You  don't  seem  to  be  in  love  with  the 
anticipation." 

"  I  should  think  not.  "What  is  there  to  enjoy  about 
it?  And,  what  is  more,  it  is  a  sheer  waste  of  time ;  that's 
what  it  is :  that's  what  it  has  been  to  me,  at  any  rate. 
I've  been  there  three  years  ;  and,  if  I  never  were  to  go 
back,  I'd  like  to  know  what  better  I  should  be  for  it,  or 
what  I  could  do  to  earn  a  dollar ;  and  it  will  be  the 
same  at  the  end  of  this  year." 

You  might  do  just  as  well  as  anybody  in  your  class 
if  you  would  work,''  interposed  Sam.  "  Why  don't  you 
try  for  a  part  ?  " 

They  wotddn't  give  me  one,  no  matter  how  well  I 
did;  besides,  what  does  a  part  amount  to?  No,  no:  it 
is  no  use  trying  to  make  a  dig  of  me.  The  old  man 
wanted  me  to  go  to  college  ;  and  to  please  him  I  said 
I'd  go  if  he  would  be  liberal  with  the  stamps.  He  has 
kept  his  promise,  and  I  mine ;  but  so  far  as  it  has  done 


256 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAHVAKD. 


me  any  good,  that  is  a  great  mistake.  However,  I  have 
one  or  two  things  that  console  me." 

I  hope  they  are  not  secrets,"  said  Kate,  laughing. 

"  Not  a  bit.  In  the  first  place,  I've  got  as  good  a 
room  as  there  is  in  Holworthy." 

"  That's  a  comfort,"  said  Sam. 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  comfort,  I  can  assure  you.  Then  I 
thank  God  that  this  is  my  last  year,  and  that,  when  it 
is  over,  I  can  shake  the  dust  of  Cambridge  from  my 
feet  forever." 

"  You  seem  wonderfully  down  on  Cambridge,"  said 
Sam,  deprecatingly. 

"  Just  wait  till  you've  been  there  as  long  as  I  have, 
and  you  will  be  down  on  Cambridge  too,"  returned  the 
Senior.  "  And,  lastly  and  mostly,  I  hope  to  have  the 
extreme  felicity  of  numbering  Mrs.  Wentworth  and  her 
daughter  among  the  guests  at  my  spread,  Class  Day, 
when  I  shall  do  my  very  level  best  to  let  them  see  that 
I  have  felt  all  the  kindness  which  they  have  bestowed 
on  such  a  good-for-nothing  fellow.  They  tell  us  some- 
where to  count  up  our  mercies ;  and  these  are  my  three 
mercies." 

Next  morning  these  two  also,  the  one  with  regret, 
and  the  other  with  bright  anticipations,  likewise  took 
their  departure  for  Cambridge ;  and  thus  ended  the 
summer  vacation. 


XVI. 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 

The  Sophomore  witnesses  the  same  eruptive  appear- 
ances about  the  doors  of  the  college  dormitories,  that 
excited  his  attention  the  year  before,  with  this  difference 
of  feeling,  that  now  he  views  them  with  impatience 
rather  than  wonder.  There  is  the  same  moving  from 
old  quarters  into  new  ones,  the  same  flurry  and  confu- 
sion, and  fitting  of  carpets  and  arranging  of  furniture  in 
the  rooms.  There  is  the  same  dusty  appearance  to  the 
buildings  and  the  neglected  and  sun-scorched  grass- 
plats.  There  is  the  enthusiastic  meeting  of  friends,  tlie 
eager  shaking  of  hands,  the  joyous  faces,  —  familiar  now 
for  the  most  part,  —  with  here  and  there  a  group  of 
awkward,  nervous  Freshmen  :  how  young,  and  different 
in  every  way,  they  are  from  the  other  students  ! '  The 
Sophomore  sleeps  uneasily  in  the  unfamiliar  room ;  the 
bell  wakes  him  half-rested  in  the  early  morning;  he 
forgets  for  an  instant  where  he  is ;  then,  after  a  hasty 
toilet,  he  rushes  down  stairs  to  the  chapel,  and  off  to 
breakfast.    He  realizes  that  he  is  at  last  a  Sophomore. 

"  Bloody  Monday  night "  had  come  around  once 
more ;  and  this  time  some  one  else  awaited  its  approach 
with  fear  and  trembling.  "  Do  you  suppose  they  will 
dare  to  kick  foot-ball  after  last  year,  and  the  warnings 

257 


258 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


whicli  have  been  given?  "  was  a  question  that  was  asked  a 
hundred  times  during  the  day.  The  general  impression 
seemed  to  prevail,  this  year,  that  the  college  had  seen 
the  last  of  the  annual  foot-ball  game,  and  that  it  would 
be  a  foolish  thing  to  risk  decimation,  or  something 
worse,  by  setting  Faculty  decrees  at  open  defiance. 
There  was,  however,  a  very  general  sentiment  that  a 
class  which  could  put  such  a  crew  on  the  river  as  the 
present  Sophomores  had  the  previous  summer  would  be 
too  plucky  to  let  the  evening  pass  without  a  demon- 
stration of  some  kind. 

Throughout  the  day  a  careful  observer  would  have 
seen  that  something  unusual  was  afoot  among  the 
Sophomores.  Little  notes  went  from  man  to  man 
throughout  the  four  divisions  at  the  morning  recita- 
tions :  perhaps  it  was  not  a  consequence  of  these  little 
messages,  but  all  through  the  forenoon  groups  of 
Sophomores  were  gathered  in  eager  consultation;  mes- 
sengers hurried  from  room  to  room,  secret  but  swelling 
with  importance.  Huntingdon  was  ubiquitous,  —  "a 
sure  sign  that  mischief  is  brewing,"  quoth  a  sagacious 
Senior  to  his  chum.  "I  never  like  to  see  a  man  so 
prominent  as  that  Huntingdon  is,  at  first,"  he  continued, 
as  the  pair  loitered  for  a  moment  on  the  hard  walk  in 
front  of  Holworthy.  "He  is  sure  to  fizzle  out  and 
come  to  nothing  before  Class  Day." 

"  Dead  sure,"  replied  the  chum,  consequentially.  "  In 
fact,  if  a  man  is  going  to  lay  for  class  honors,  the 
shadier  he  keeps,  the  Freshman  and  Sophomore  year, 
the  better." 

After  tea  Villiers  climbed  the  three  flights  of  stairs, 
in  the  north  entry  of  HoUis  Hall,  that  led  to  Sam's 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


259 


new  room,  and  presented   liimself  at   the  doorway. 

Come  for  a  walk,''  lie  called,  cheerily,  as  he  entered 
in  response  to  Sam's  invitation,  and  then  stopped  short 
in  amazement  as  he  took  the  first  step  within. 

'•"Why,  Sam,  what  in  the  world  is  all  this  for?"  he 
said,  earnestly ;  for  he  discovered  him  arrayed  in  a  pair 
of  huge  spectacles,  a  false  beard,  and  a  coat  turned 
inside  out.  A  shockino-  hat  lav  on  the  table,  and  a 
spade  rested  against  the  wall. 

"  I  am  getting  ready  for  '  Cat  Alley,'  to  be  sure,'' 
returned  Sam,  stoutly.  Here,  take  some  of  this 
toggery,*'  pointing  to  a  pile  of  outlandish  stuff  on  the 
bed ;  '•  adorn  yourself,  and  come  along.  We  must 
have  the  whole  class.  It  is  time  Ave  were  there  now," 
and  donning  his  hat,  and  shouldering  his  spade,  he 
moved  half  way  to  the  door,  looking  ridiculous  enough. 

Cat  Alley,''  be  it  remembered,  was  a  locality  not  far 
remoA'ed  from  the  square,  well  known  to  students. 

"  Stop  a  minute,''  said  Villiers,  earnestly.  This  is 
rowdyish  and  ungentlemanly  busmess,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  consequences  which  are  sure  to  follow  detection. 
Let  it  all  go,  Sam :  come  for  a  tramp  with  me ;  "  and 
his  friend  looked  earnestly  and  entreatingly  at  him. 

You  wouldn't  liaA'e  knovm  me  A'ourself  in  this  ris:, 
would  you?"  he  replied.  "Xo:  I  am  much  obliged  to 
you,  but  I  am  in  for  it.  I  promised  to  go,  and  they 
are  waiting  for  me."  Then,  shouldering  the  spade 
which,  in  a  moment  of  irresolution,  he  had  loAvered  to 
the  floor,  he  clattered  doAATi  stairs,  and  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of    Cat  Alley." 

Rumor  had  spread  the  information  throughout  the 
college  during  the  afternoon  that,  if  the  felloAvs  Avould 


260 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


like  to  see  some  sport,  they  would  clo  well  to  be  as 
near  the  Delta  as  convenient,  about  dm,k.  Accord- 
ingly, shortly  after  sunset  the  undergraduates  began  to 
assemble  around  the  enclosure  ;  and  soon  there  was 
a  goodly  number,  comprising  J uniors.  Freshmen,  a  few 
Sophomores,  and  occasionally  a  Senior;  leaning  against 
the  fence,  collected  in  merry  groups,  or  airily  saun- 
tering to  and  fro,  leisurely  awaiting  the  event.  The 
Sophomores,  on  the  other  hand,  were  collected  in 
Cat  Alley ;  and,  the  procession  being  formed,  they  took 
up  the  line  of  march  for  the  Delta,  moved  into  the 
centre  of  the  triangle,  countermarched,  and  made  the 
circuit  of  tlie  field,  and  then  halted,  while  the  spectators, 
for  a  moment  dumb  through  surprise  at  this  novel  and 
unexpected  entertainment,  rent  the  air  with  a  shout  of 
admiring  approbation ;  and  the  green  resounded  with 
noisy  laughter,  and  the  clapping  of  many  hands. 

First  came  the  marshal,  a  grotesque  figure,  whose 
personal  identity  was  entirely  lost  in  his  disguise  ;  then 
the  trumpeters  or  horn-blowers,  equally  well  disguised, 
discoursing  most  discordant  sounds  from  their  shells; 
then  the  escort,  a  score  or  more  in  fantastic  regalia, 
followed  by  the  priest  in  his  robes ;  next  were  the  pall- 
bearers, then  the  grave-diggers  ;  and  twoscore  mourners, 
shocking-looking  fellows,  closed  the  procession. 

Just  at  this  time  a  professor  crossed  the  triangle,  and 
all  eyes  centred  their  attention  upon  him.  He  glanced 
quietly  at  the  motley  crowd,  smiled,  and  passed  on  to 
the  Faculty  meeting  in  University.  He  was  not  the 
man  to  act  the  part  of  spy  or  Faculty  detective. 

Meantime  the  two  grave-diggers  had  been  busy  with 
their  spades,  and  the  grave  was  ready ;  the  priest,  a  big 


THE  NEW  sopho:moees. 


261 


fellow,  read  the  service  ;  the  coffin  was  quickly  lowered, 
and  the  earth  throAvn  in ;  when  suddenly  the  spirit  of 
the  dead  and  buried  foot-ball  rose  into  the  air  in  the 
shape  of  a  rubber  balloon,  and  soared  gracefully  away 
into  the  deepening  dusk.  At  this  the  spectators,  who 
by  this  time  numbered  half  a  thousand,  and  who  had 
hitherto  understood  but  imperfectly  the  real  nature 
of  the  proceedings,  clapped  their  thousand  hands,  and 
shouted  their  delight.  Cheer  after  cheer  for  the  Sopho- 
mores rent  the  air,  the  procession  was  again  formed,  and 
after  making  the  tour  of  the  college  grounds,  with  a 
transparency  representing  the  apotheosis  of  the  foot- 
ball, cheering  the  buildings,  and  paying  their  particular 
respects  to  the  Faculty,  who  were  in  high  council  in 
Uniyersity,  three  rousing  cheers  were  given  for  the 
class ;  and  the  men  scattered  to  their  rooms. 

The  affair  was  a  novelty  and  a  success. 

"I  say,  Dick,"  said  one  denizen  of  Holworthy  to 
another,  "  that  wasn't  so  bad  for  the  Sophs." 

"  No,"  returned  the  latter,  "  I  should  say  not ;  and 
I  hope  the  Faculty  won't  make  it  bad  for  them  in  the 
way  of  decimation,  either." 

"Ha,  ha,  no!  I  should  hope  not,"  said  the  first 
speaker ;  "  but  it's  a  way  they  have  when  they  fail  to 
spot  anybody." 

"  Yes,  it's  a  way  they  have,  sure  enough.  In  whose 
fertile  brain  do  you  guess  this  exceedingly  brilliant  per- 
formance originated  ?  " 

Give  it  up  !  "  and  the  pair  passed  on  to  their  pipes 
and  metaphysics. 

"  I  flatter  myself  that  went  off  pretty  well,"  quoth 
Huntingdon,  as,  ten  minutes  later,  he  doffed  his  gear, 


262. 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVABD. 


and  stowed  it  securely  away.  He  had  been  marshal, 
had  conceived  the  plan,  and,  more  than  any  one  else, 
put  it  into  execution. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sam,  removing  his  beard,  and  making 
himself  recognizable  once  more  (he  had  been  one  of  the 
grave-diggers)  ;  "  I  don't  see  what  fault  you  could  find 
with  that,  I'm  sure." 

"  They  can't  have  spotted  anybody,  either,"  con- 
tinued Huntingdon ;  "  though  I  saw  three  tutors,  and 
ever  so  many  proctors,  prowling  around." 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  could,"  said  Sam.  "  I  believe 
I  didn't  recognize  a  soul  myself." 

"  Come,  now ;  the  evening's  work  isn't  half  finished 
until  we  have  polished  the  Freshmen  off  a  little,"  said 
Huntingdon,  hat  in  hand,  looking  at  his  chum,  who  had 
seated  himself  at  the  table,  and  taken  up  a  book.  "  We 
want  you." 

Now,  Sam  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  hazing.  His  mother  and 
sister  had  talked  the  matter  over  with  him,  fully  and 
earnestly,  the  evening  before  he  left  home,  only  the  last 
Wednesday  night ;  and  he  had  realized,  for  the  first 
time,  the  anxiety  that  possessed  them,  lest  his  college 
course  should  be  brought  to  a  disgraceful  and  untimely 
end.  It  had  seemed  then  that  nothing  could  tempt  him 
into  any  possibility  of  disgrace;  and  he  already  felt 
that  he  had  broken  his  resolution.  There  were  other 
reasons,  even  stronger  than  these,  why  he  did  not  care 
to  leave  Cambridge,  or  in  any  way  risk  the  possibility 
of  such  an  event ;  but  it  is  so  hard  to  say  No,  some- 
times !  He  sat  irresolute,  one  hand  on  his  half-closed 
book,  the  other  on  the  back  of  his  chair,  while  these 
thoughts  pass  through  his  mind. 


-THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


"  Come,"  said  Huntingdon,  once  more  :  "  be  a  man." 

"  I  believe  I  won't  have  any  thing  to  do  with  hazing, 
chum  :  you  must  count  me  out  there,"  he  said,  firmly 
enough  ;  for  the  moment  of  doubt  was  gone.  "  Do  my 
share  for  me,"  he  added,  impetuously,  as  his  chum  hur- 
ried excitedly  out,  looking  every  inch  the  hero. 

Though  Sam  burned  to  be  out  with  the  boys,  sharing 
the  danger  with  them,  he  turned  to  his  book,  and  set 
resolutely  to  work  to  dig  out  the  next  day's  mathematics. 
For  a  time,  he  got  on  very  well,  though  it  was  hard  to 
fix  the  attention.  Then  as  through  the  open  windows, 
and  up  the  stairs,  and  in  through  the  door,  came  the 
shout  and  roar  of  a  tumult  below,  he  threw  down  his 
book,  seized  his  hat,  and,  rushing  down  stairs,  plunged 
into  the  throng. 

That  angle  of  the  college  grounds  between  Stoughton 
and  Hoi  worthy,  well  illuminated,  in  spite  of  the  dark- 
ness, by  the  light  from  a  hundred  windows,  was  packed 
with  a  dense  crowd  of  students,  representatives  from  all 
j  classes,  with  Sophomores  and  Freshmen  predominating. 
These  latter  were,  for  the  most  part,  gathered  together 
around  the  northern  doorway  of  Stoughton.  The 
Sophomores  were  in  scattered  groups,  here  and  there  ; 
while  the  few  Juniors  and  Seniors  were  lounging  on 
Hoi  worthy  steps,  leisurely  awaiting  the  events  of  the 
hour.  Sam  asked,  "  What  is  up  ?  "  several  times,  with- 
out receiving  any  satisfactory  information.  It  appeared 
that,  save  the  noise,  some  cheering  now  and  then,  and  a 
little  good-natured  raillery,  there  was  no  particular 
disturbance.  The  Sophomores  were  waiting  for  the 
Freshmen  to  disperse  to  their  rooms,  in  order  to  initiate 
the  hazing  of  the  year ;  but  these  latter  gentlemen  were 


264  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

evidently  not  disposed  to  accommodate  tlieir  seniors  on 
tliis  point.  This  masterly  inactivity  on  the  part  of  the 
Sophomores  was  not  to  continue  long,  however.  "  We 
are  going  to  give  the  beggars  a  little  rush,"  said  Lewis 
in  a  whisper  to  Sam,  presently.  "Surround  them,  and 
hustle  them  through  the  entry  and  back,  two  or  three 
times,  and  wake  them  up  a  little.  Keep  close  together, 
boys ;  now,  then,  here  we  go  !  "  and  the  Sophomores, 
having  gathered  together  their  forces,  deployed,  and 
surrounded  the  foe,  and  swooped  down  on  them  with  a 
mighty  yell,  with  the  intent  to  force  them  through  the 
entry.  But  the  Freshmen  were  both  numerous  and 
resolute,  and  held  their  ground  well ;  there  was  a  mighty 
jostling  and  swaying  to  and  fro  of  a  dark,  struggling 
mass,  laughter  and  shouting  and  confusion  worse  con- 
founded ;  then  twenty  or  thirty  big  fellows  from  the 
two  upper  classes,  who  had  been  waiting  their  time,  lent 
their  shoulders ;  the  Freshmen  gave  ground  ;  and,  with 
a  loud  yell,  the  entire  pack  of  two  hundred  students 
surged  through  the  entry.  There  was  a  short  struggle 
at  the  rear  doorway;  and  the  mass  was  precipitated  into 
the  yard,  where  many  a  one  rolled  in  the  dust  as  the 
tussle  continued.  There  was  little  respect  for  persons,  it 
being  too  dark  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe ;  and  the 
tumult  increased.  A  newly  appointed  tutor  appeared 
on  the  scene  to  quell  the  disturbance,  or  at  least  "  spot  '* 
the  rioters,  and  unwarily  ventured  into  the  throng.  A 
huge  and  hilarious  Senior,  who  was  enjoying  himself, 
and  carrying  every  thing  before  him,  mistaking  him 
for  a  Freshman,  perhaps,  seized  him  round  the  waist, 
lifted  him  bodily  from  the  ground,  and  rushed  him 
along.    "  Here  !  stop  there  !  hold  on  !    Do  you  know 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


265 


wlio  I  am  ?  I  am  Mr.  Smitlison,"  shouted  the  irate 
tutor,  with  all  the  dignity  which  the  circumstances  per- 
mitted.   "  Who  in  the    is  Smithson  ?  "  ejaculated 

the  Senior,  with  the  utmost  contempt,  dragging  his 
prize  to  a  lamp-post,  that  he  might  have  a  good  look  at 
his  face,  and  then  dismissing  him  with  a  jerk,  that 
sent  the  bewildered  official  sprawling  on  the  grass. 

Now  some  thoughtful  men,  who  had  been  surveying  the 
struggling  mass  from  the  windows  in  Stoughton,  brought 
their  water-pails,  and  bestowed  the  contents  thereof  on 
their  friends  beneath.  There  was  a  general  scatter- 
ing at  this,  and  laughter  and  the  clapping  of  hands 
from  the  windows  of  Stoughton  and  HoUis,  after  which 
by  degrees  the  crowd  dispersed ;  and  once  more  all  was 
silent  around  old  Stoughton.  A  party  of  Sophomores 
with  Huntingdon  at  their  head  went  the  rounds  of  the 
Freshman  rooms,  and  paid  their  compliments  to  as 
many  of  their  inmates  as  they  could  find ;  by  which 
means,  and  b}^  the  genius  and  tact  of  Mr.  Huntingdon, 
the  reputation  of  "  bloody  Monday  night "  was  more 
than  sustained,  and  the  class  prestige  considerably 
increased. 

Sam,  not  caring  to  go  with  the  hazing  party,-  had 
climbed  to  his  room  after  the  disturbance  about  Hol- 
worthy  and  Stoughton  had  ceased,  and  after  working 
out  his  mathematics,  and  waiting  for  his  chum  a  long 
time,  had  retired.  Late  at  night  he  was  awakened  by  a 
hand  shaking  his  shoulder. 

"  Chum,  chum,  wake  up,"  said  Huntingdon,  who  had 
stolen  softly  up  stairs  with  eagerness. 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  sleepily,  "  is  any  thing  the  m.at- 
ter?" 


266  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Have  you  been  in  the  room  all  the  evening?"  Hun- 
tingdon hurriedly  asked. 

"  Pretty  much,"  said  Sam,  with  a  yawn. 

"  Has  anybody  been  here  after  me  ?  any  tutor  or 
proctor?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Sam,  beginning  to  feel  interested  as 
he  grew  more  thoroughly  awake. 

"  Well,  that's  good,"  continued  Huntingdon,  with  a 
relieved  expression.  "  I  understand  that  the  Faculty 
were  very  much  enraged,  and  voted  that  an  inspection 
should  be  made  of  the  Sophomores'  rooms,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  seeing  who  were  abroad,  with  the  view  of  call- 
ing upon  those  who  were  not  found  at  home,  to  account 
for  their  time  this  evening." 

"  That  wouldn't  be  a  very  comfortable  undertaking, 
would  it  ?  "  said  Sam,  beginning  to  think  of  the  even- 
ing's work  in  a  more  serious  frame  of  mind. 

"  Not  altogether,  though  if  nobody  has  been  here  we 
are  all  right.  They  say  that  the  Faculty  consider  the 
disturbance  of  this  evening  unprecedented  in  the  annals 
of  the  college,  and  are  going  to  make  an  example  of 
somebody." 

No  one  ever  discovered  that  the  Faculty's  officers  had 
inspected  the  Sophomores'  rooms;  and  the  idea  had 
probably  originated  in  the  fertile  brain  of  some  Junior 
or  Senior,  who  had  disclosed  it  to  a  Sophomore  for  the 
sake  of  the  moral  effect  that  might  thus  be  produced. 
But  the  red  arm  of  Facult}''  justice  fell  on  the  class 
within  a  few  days;  every  tenth  man,  the  innocent  as 
well  as  the  guilty,  receiving  a  "  public,"  and  one  man 
at  least  receiving  a  recompense  most  unmeet. 

"  Parsons  is  gone,"  said  Longstreet,  bursting  into 
Sam's  room  a  few  days  later. 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


267 


"  Gone  where  ?  "  asked  Huntingdon  and  Lewis  to- 
gether,  while  others  looked  inquiringly  at  the  bearer  of 
the  information. 

"  Why,  taken  up  his  connection,  and  left  in  disgust ;  and 

serves  the  old  Faculty  right  too,"  said  Longstreet, 

excitedly.    "  Something  ought  to  be  done  about  ii." 

"  What  in  the  world  had  he  done  ?  "  said  Sam.  "  He 
only  returned  a  day  or  so  ago  from  a  six-months'  suspen- 
sion." 

"  Done  nothing,  of  course,"  replied  Longstreet,  indig- 
nantly. "  It's  a  pretty  good  yarn  though,  —  a  deuced 
good  one,  in  fact ;  "  and  the  little  fellow  began  to  expand 
with  complacency ;  "  only  mighty  rough  on  him  ;  "  and 
he  strutted  consequentially  about. 

"  Come,  out  with  it,"  said  Lewis. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  Sophomore,  "  and  I  will  '  a  tale 
unfold.'  You  remember  last  year  how  he  was  off  on  a 
regular  spree  for  a  week,  cut  prayers  and  recitations, 
and  finally  church  services  all  day.  Well,  he  put  in  his 
petition  to  be  allowed  to  make  it  up,  on  the  ground  that 
he  had  been  called  away  to  Newport,  to  see  his  cousin, 
a  middy  in  the  naval  school,  who  was  desperately  sick, 
and  whom  he  had  accompanied  to  his  home ;  and  had 
his  certificates  all  straight,  and  also  one  that  he  had 
attended  service  twice  on  Sunday;  every  thing  drawn 
-  up  and  signed  —  by  his  chum. 

"Joe  is  a  pretty  sharp  old  fellow,  and  you  can't 
generally  beat  him  much  :  so,  when  he  went  up  to  see 
whether  his  petition  was  granted,  the  two  had  a  little 
talk.  At  first,  Joe  pumped  him  about  the  town,  and 
then  about  the  school  and  the  officers;  but  Parsons, 
who  had  really  been  there  in  the  summer,  was  well 


268 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


posted,  and  Joe  was  considerably  nonplussed.  At  last 
says  the  old  cove,  '  Travelling  in  the  boat  is  very 
pleasant :  didn't  you  find  it  so  ?  '  knowing  well  enough 
that  the  boat  didn't  run,  and  that  every  thing  was 
frozen  as  tight  as  a  drum. 

"'I  came  by  the  cars,'  said  Parsons,  knowing  that  he 
was  getting  into  deep  water. 

" '  Oh,  yes,  of  course  :  there  is  no  boat  now  ;  on  which 
train  ? '  as  polite  as  a  basket  of  chips.  '  I  used  to  know 
the  hours,  but  I've  forgotten.' 

"  '  He  had  me  there,'  said  Parsons  ;  'for  I  didn't  have 
the  first  idea  about  the  train :  had  forgotten  to  post  up 
on  that.' " 

"  And  they  gave  him  six  months,"  interrupted  Hunt- 
ingdon.   "  Yes,  we  all  knew  all  about  that." 

"  Last  Wednesday  morning,"  continued  Longstreet, 
without  deigning  to  notice  the  interruption,  "  old  Jones 
goes  around  to  the  room,  and  asks  for  '  Mr.  Parsons.' 

"  '  He  hasn't  come  on  from  Philadelphia  yet,"  said 
his  chum,  which  was  the  truth. 

"  '  Oh  !  hasn't  he  ? '  replies  Jones  with  a  grin :  '  well, 
when  he  does  come,  won't  you  be  so  good  as  to  say  to 
him  that  the  President  would  like  to  see  him  at  his 
office?'  Parsons  did  not  come  on  till  last  night,  being 
detained  for  good  reasons  this  time,  and  went  to  see 
the  President  the  first  thing  this  morning,  wondering 
what  could  be  up.  He  Avasn't  long  in  suspense.  The 
President  informed  him  that  the  Faculty,  at  a  special 
meeting,  had  voted  his  suspension  for  a  year,  for  his 
part  in  Monday  night's  irregularities. 

"'Monday  night?'  said  Parsons,  completely  bewil- 
dered. '  Why,  on  Monday  night  I  was  in  Philadelphia. 
I  only  reached  Cambridge  late  last  evening.' 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


269 


"  *  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Parsons,'  said  the  President,  sarcas- 
tically; 'but  four  different  members  of  the  Faculty 
saw  and  recognized  you  Monday  night,  in  spite  of  your 
disguise ;  and  they  have  voted  as  I  said.  You  will 
have  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  leave  Cambridge.' 

" '  But  I  can  prove  that  at  that  time  I  was  in  Phila- 
delphia with  my  friends :  I  can  prove  by  certificates, 
where  I  was  every  hour  from  sunset  to  sunrise.' 

"  You  must  excuse  me  for  saying  so,  Mr.  Parsons,' 
rejoins  the  Prex. ;  'but,  after  last  term's  experience 
with  your  certificates,  I  fear  they  would  not  have  very 
much  weight  — '  " 

"  Had  him  there  bad,  didn't  he  ?  "  interposed  Lewis, 
with  a  mighty  laugh,  in  which  the  room  joined. 

" '  Especially  as  your  identity  was  proved  by  four 
different  members  of  the  Faculty :  of  course  we  don't 
want  any  better  evidence  than  that  of  our  own  senses.' 
So  Parsons  has  taken  up  his  connection,  and  left  in  dis- 
gust ;  and,  for  one,  I  don't  blame  him.  And,  by  Jove, 
it's  too  bad :  we  ought  to  take  some  action  on  it  as  a 
class; "  and  the  little  man  paused,  quite  out  of  breath. 

"  It  is  too  bad,"  said  Lyman,  seriously.  "  Parsons 
was  a  first-rate  fellow :  there  wasn't  much  talk  to  him, 
but  he  was  always  ready  to  do  his  part,  and  3^ou  could 
always  count  on  him." 

"  That's  a  splendid  illustration  of  Faculty  justice," 
said  Huntingdon.  "  Condemn  a  man  first,  and  try  him 
afterwards,  or  not  at  all.  I  see  how  it  all  is.  They 
mistook  me  for  Parsons :  we  are  built  about  alike.  A 
good  many  thought  the  same,  and  spoke  to  me  about  it ; 
and  I  can  assure  you,"  with  a  hard  laugh,  "  I  took  no 
pains  to  correct  the  error.    I  believe  I  must  have  had 


270 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


a  narrow  escape.  I'm  sorry  for  Parsons,  but  I  suppose 
it's  his  luck.  Hov/ever,  I  don't  believe  he  will  be 
much  of  a  loss  to  the  class :  his  example  has  been  very 
bad." 

The  rank-list  came  out  at  last ;  and,  as  every  one  had 
supposed,  Villiers's  name  headed  it.  Huntingdon  was 
fifth ;  and  Sam  was  pleased  to  find  himself  well  up 
among  the  first  twenty.  Pretty  fair  for  a  boating-man, 
he  thought ;  but  he  determined  to  do  better  than  that 
this  year,  and  Villiers  commended  his  resolution. 

The  question,  whether  there  would  be  much  hazing 
this  year,  that  was  asked  so  often  during  the  first  few 
days  of  the  term,  was  speedily  answered.  The  irregu- 
larities of  that  memorable  Monday  night  were  followed 
up  by  a  series  of  outrages,  perpetrated  on  the  unfortu- 
nate Freshmen,  until  people  began  to  wonder  where  it 
would  end.  The  matter  was  discussed  at  length  in  the 
daily  papers  of  the  neighboring  metropolis;  and  the 
tide  of  public  sentiment  set  strongly  against  the  cus- 
tom. The  Faculty  made  every  exertion  to  discover  the 
offenders,  but  without  avail ;  and  it  was  only  after  a 
long-continued  and  desperate  effort  to  stop  the  prac- 
tice, during  which  one  entirely  innocent  man  was  ex- 
pelled, and  they  had  finally  selected  Lewis,  Lyman, 
and  Smith,  three  of  the  most  popular  men  in  the  class, 
and  held  them  as  hostages  for  the  general  good  be- 
havior, that  the  riotous  proceedings  abated.  These 
students  had  really  been  guilty  of  no  offence,  save  of 
paying  a  visit,  in  a  friendly  way,  to  a  brother  of  Lewis's 
in  College  House,  who  was  delighted  to  entertain  such 
distinguished  guests,  and  having  a  little  sport  at  the 
expense  of  the  proctor  of  the  entry ;  but  what  of  that  ? 


THE  NEW  SOPHOMORES. 


271 


The  class  must  be  obedient,  or  these  three  men  should 
suffer  the  consequences ;  so  the  class  became  obedient. 

They  were  having  a  joUj  time  in  the  Freshman's 
room,  beyond  a  doubt ;  and  the  proctor,  a  new  officer 
who  had  served  in  the  army,  and  had  very  strict  mili- 
tary notions  of  duty,  came  to  see  what  was  the  cause 
of  so  much  disturbance.  They  happened  to  know  who 
it  was  that  was  knocking  at  the  door,  and  civilly  refused 
to  admit  him ;  whereat  he,  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
he  must  have  surprised  a  body  of  truculent  Sophomores, 
to  capture  whom  would  be  glory  indeed,  resolutely  de- 
termined to  mount  guard,  and  thereupon  paced  to  and 
fro. 

"  Straightway,"  said  Lewis,  who  told  the  story  with 
great  glee  to  an  admiring  crowd,  "  Jack,  who  is  some- 
thing of  a  musician,  brought  out  his  flute,  and,  getting 
the  rhythm  of  the  tread  outside,  struck  up  the  Rogues' 
March ;  whereat  '  ye  hero '  broke  step,  and  we  had  a 
laugh  at  him.  He  laughed  too ;  but  he  soon  took  up 
his  beat  again,  and  marched  on  in  spite  of  the  music, 
blockading  us  till  one  o'clock,  four  hours,  by  Jove ! 
when  we  thought  it  was  high  time  to  turn  in :  so  we  ran 
for  it.  He  spotted  us  though ;  and  the  consequence  was, 
that  we  all  three  had  the  honor  of  making  an,  explana- 
tion vo  the  venerable  body,  sitting  like  so"  many  crows 
in  council,  with  the  Prex.  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  and 
we  came  deuced  near  bidding  adieu  to  these  classic 
shades  too,  for  it  was  the  very  hardest  thing  to  make 
them  understand  that  Sophomores  could  be  in  a  Fresh- 
man's loom  on  any  other  errand  than  to  haze  him.  If 
Jack  hadn't  been  my  brother,  that  would  have  been  our 
last  day  in  Cambridge  for  a  year  at  least.  It  was  just 
a  rub  and  a  go,  as  it  was." 


272 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


'  I  can  tell  you  one  thing  that  would  have  happened 
if  they  had  suspended  you,"  said  Longstreet,  excitedly. 
"  We'd  have  just  had  a  rebellion,  and  nothing  less  ;  and 
would  have  soon  found  out  whether  the  Faculty  could 
get  on  best  without  us,  or  we  without  them." 

At  this  the  company  enjoyed  a  laugh  at  the  irate 
little  Sophomore  and  his  rebellion. 

It  so  chanced  that  the  assignment  of  Sophomore 
rooms  had  brought  together  a  number  of  Sam's  friends 
in  the  north  entry  of  HoUis.  Of  the  four  rooms 
allotted  to  this  class,  he  himself  occupied  one  with 
Huntingdon.  Smith  and  Hawes  had  the  one  in  the 
rear;  Lyman  and  Longstreet  were  in  the  room  oppo- 
site ;  while  Adams  and  Lewis  had  gone  in  together,  and 
were  domiciled  opposite  Smith  and  Hawes.  The  col- 
lege might  have  been  searched  in  vain  for  four  more 
comfortable  apartments,  or  for  a  set  of  jollier  students, 
than  these  happy  Sophomores.  A  regular  dig  would 
have  fared  badly  there,  though  they  were,  on  the  whole, 
a  fair  working  set ;  but  some  one  was  almost  sure  to 
drop  in  at  that  last  hour  which  they  had  mentally  set 
apart  for  work,  and  then  one  or  two  more  would  come 
loafing  along ;  and  after  that  it  was  as  well  to  close  the 
book.  Lyman  had  a  piano,  on  which  both  he  and 
Longstreet  were  tolerably  proficient  performers.  There 
was  nobody  overhead  to  be  annoyed;  and  they  used 
to  have  some  of  the  j oiliest  choruses,  while  not  unfre- 
quently,  of  an  evening,  the  best  voices  of  the  Glee 
Club  gathered  around  the  instrument.  Perhaps,  just 
as  one  had  settled  down  for  a  little  quiet,  Lewis  and 
Hawes  would  come  in,  and  try  their  hands  at  a  little 
wrestling-bout ;  for  these  four  rooms  were  all  used  in 


THE  XETV  sopho:mores. 


273 


common ;  and  tlien  tlie  cliairs,  tables,  and  imsubstantial 
furniture  fared  badlv.  while  a  light  man  like  Adams  and 
Longstreet,  or  even  Lyman,  had  the  choice  of  making 
spry  dodges,  or  being  half  crushed  by  the  big  fellows. 
Several  times  the  stock  had  to  be  replenished;  but 
finally  a  place  of  refuge  vas  hit  upon. 

"  Suppose,  Tom,  vre  put  all  four  beds  into  your  room, 
and  use  this  for  a  study,  and  yours  for  a  sleeping-room," 
Sam  said  to  him  one  day. 

"Agreed,"  said  Tom.  The  plan  was  forthwith  car- 
ried into  execution,  and  was  followed  by  the  opposite 
neighbors,  giving  to  the  rear  rooms,  which  each  con- 
tained four  beds,  the  appearance  of  hospital  wards ; 
but  making  the  front  rooms  very  cosey  parlors  indeed. 
After  this,  if  one  wanted  a  quiet  hour  he  could  retire 
to  the  sleeping-room,  and  usually  enjoy  as  much  seclu- 
sion as  he  wished ;  that  is,  if  no  one  in  a  spirit  of 
mischief  came  to  disturb  him  there,  as  frequently  hap- 
pened to  Sam,  when  two  or  three  came  to  secure  his 
presence  for  some  pastime  or  other,  declaring  that  he 
was  getting  to  be  altogether  too  much  of  a  dig. 

Villiers  had  retained  his  room  in  College  House ; 
and  it  happened  not  unfrequently  that  Sam,  driven  by 
his  friends  from  one  refuge  after  another,  would  slip 
away  from  the  merry  compaiiy,  and  make  liim  a  call ; 
for  in  his  room  he  could  always  secure  the  necessary 
quiet.  Thus  it  came  about  that  these  two  friends  were 
as  much  too'ether  this  vear  as  ever  before.  One  week 
after  another  rolled  quickly  by,  — busy  weeks  too.  Haz- 
ing was  over;  the  college  was  as  quiet,  orderly,  and 
industrious  as  even  the  Faculty  could  desire.  Novem- 
ber drew  on   apace,  and  again  Thanksgiving  recesa 


274  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVAKD. 


was  at  hand.  Before  this  began,  however,  the  Sopho- 
mores were  to  have  their  first  class  supper  at  "  Taft's," 
"  where  I  can  howl  all  I  want  to,  and  go  out  and  roll 
on  the  beach,"  said  Longstreet,  rolling  up  his  eyes  with 
delight.  Huntingdon  was  to  preside ;  for  lie  still  ruled 
the  class. 


XVII. 


HAZIKG  A  FEESmiAK. 

The  class  was  destined  not  to  separate,  even  for 
the  short  period  of  Thanksgiving  recess,  until  after 
an  event  had  occurred,  fraught  with  important  conse- 
quences to  more  than  one  of  its  members. 

Sam  had  kept  to  the  letter  his  resolution  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  hazing.  In  none  of  the  outrages  of 
the  fall,  that  had  set  the  little  college  world  agog, 
roused  the  wrath  of  the  Faculty,  struck  terror  to  the 
hearts  of  the  Freshmen,  and  drawn  down  on  the  vener- 
able institution  the  ire  of  the  general  public,  had  he 
had  a  share  ;  and  indeed,  since  the  action  of  the  Faculty 
towards  Lewis  and  the  others,  hazing  had  virtually 
come  to  an  end. 

It  so  happened  that  there  was  a  man  among  the  Fresh- 
men, who  through  all  the  persecution,  had  been  passed 
by.  Allyne,  he  called  himself,  from  a  rural  district  in 
Maine;  a  short,  thick-set,  powerfully  built  man,  with 
a  neck  like  a  bull's,  great  breadth  of  shoulder,  and  a 
remarkable  display  of  muscle,  which  he  exhibited  freely 
on  the  river  and  in  the  gymnasium,  where  he  would  put 
up  the  heaviest  dumb-bells  in  the  presence  of  an  admir- 
ing company.  Rumor  gave  him  the  reputation  of  being 
a  first-rate  "  shoulder-hitter,"  and  a  dangerous  man  to 


276 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


encounter;  and  Ms  appearance  warranted  the  report. 
It  was  certain  that  he  had  boxed  with  the  "  professor," 
and  broken  a  bone  in  his  wrist,  so  that  the  good-natured 
old  athlete  could  not  give  his  regular  instruction  in 
sparring.  That  he  was  something  of  a  bully,  and  more 
of  a  braggart,  was  manifest.  He  had  made  his  boasts 
openly  that  he  had  not  been  hazed,  and,  what  was  more, 
that  there  were  not  men  enough  in  the  Sophomore  class 
to  haze  him.  It  looked  as  though  he  would  really  go 
free ;  for  the  men  who  engage  in  this  business  are  not 
always  the  pluckiest  in  the  class,  smy  more  than  they  are 
the  most  gentlemanly ;  and  their  victims  are  wont  to  be 
the  effeminate  and  conceited  youth  from  our  New  Eng- 
land cities,  so  many  of  whom  are  to  be  found  at  Har- 
vard. Besides,  the  fact  that  the  Faculty  held  hostages 
for  the  class,  rendered  it  a  more  serious  matter  to  engage 
in  an}^  thing  that  smacked  of  hazing.  Matters  had 
come  to  svuch  a  pass,  however,  that  it  really  seemed  to 
many  of  the  Sophomores  as  though  some  action  ought 
to  be  taken  in  AUyne's  case  before  Thanksgiving  recess. 

"  You  haven't  paid  your  compliments  to  Allyne  yet, 
have  you  ?  "  was  a  question  that  Haskill  had  propounded 
to  Sam  a  score  of  times.  "  They  say  he  makes  his  brags 
that  he  won't  allow  himself  to  be  hazed,  and  that  there 
are  not  men  enough  in  your  class  to  do  it.  It  seems 
as  though  he  knew  what  he  was  talking  about,  doesn't 
it  ?    No  Freshman  could  have  said  that  in  our  day." 

The  manner  of  the  Senior  was  very  aggravating,  to  say 
the  least ;  but  it  was  not  half  so  bad  to  take  this  from 
a  Senior  as  from  perhaps  a  pair  of  contemptuous  and 
.onceited  Freshmen.  The  result  of  this  all  was  that 
tiwA  were  y^^y  few  men  indeed,  among  the  Sopho- 


HAZIXG  A  FEESmiAX. 


277 


mores,  who  did  not  feel  that  the  class  honor  demanded 
that  Allj'ne  must  be  taught  a  lesson.  Thus  it  c;inic 
about  that  Sam  made  one  of  a  party  of  half  a  score 
who  went  one  night  to  put  that  bragging  Freshman 
through  a  course  of  sprouts,'"  as  Longstreet  expressed  it. 

Huntingdon  was  the  ringleader,  of  course ;  then 
there  were  Hawes  and  Smith  and  Lewis,  of  the  boating 
fraternity;  Lyman  and  two  more  of  the  most  gentle- 
manly men  of  the  class  ;  and  last,  as  he  was  least  in 
stature,  though  the  fiercest  in  spirit,  was  Longstreet. 
This  latter  had  indeed  been  a  terror  to  the  Freshmen, 
in  spite  of  his  diminutive  proportions  :  there  was  not  a 
Freshman's  room  that  he  had  not  visited  more  than 
once,  and  hardly  a  Freshman,  little  or  big,  that  he  had 
not  bullied  and  maltreated.  Though  usually  accompa- 
nied by  friends  who  were  ready  to  back  him  up  if 
necessary,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  go  alone  into  the  ene- 
my's quarters,  where  his  very  presence  became  a  terror. 
To-night  was  to  be  his  crowning  triumph.  "  I  am  just 
going  to  most  everlastingly  punch  that  Allyne's  head 
for  him,  and  let  him  know  whether  everybody  is  afraid 
of  him  or  not.""  said  he,  capering  around  on  a  very  tip- 
toe of  excitement,  as  the  party  prepared  to  sally  forth 
Xever  was  douo^htv  warrior  more  eao^er  for  the  frav. 

It  was  only  after  many  exhortations  on  the  part  of 
his  friends,  that  Sam  was  persuaded  into  breaking  his 
good  resolution.  His  chum  had  appealed  to  him  in 
*^aiii ;  and  it  was  not  till  Lyman,  that  most  influential 
gentleman,  had  talked  with  liim,  that  he  had  consented 
to  go.  '-You  leaA'e  Wentworth  to  me,*'  he  said,  coolly: 
"  111  bring  him  aroimd,  or  I  am  mistaken.  We  want 
him,  for  he  is  as  strong  as  a  horse." 


278 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


"This  is  a  peculiar  case,  Wentworth,  a  class  matter," 
he  had  said  to  Sam,  in  his  cool,  convincing  way ;  "  and 
you  will  agree  with  me  that  the  class  is  more  than  the 
private  feelings  of  any  one  man.  I  don't  believe  in 
hazing,  as  you  know  yourself,  any  more  than  you  do. 
I  abominate  it  most  thoroughly :  it  is  all  wrong.  We 
ought  to  extend  the  Freshmen  the  right  hand  of  fel- 
lowship [a  favorite  expression  of  Sam's,  for  he  had  de- 
fended his  course  many  a  time]  ;  but  this  is  a  peculiar 
matter.  It  won't  answer  to  allow  a  man  who  sets  up  his 
Ebenezer,  and  says  he  worit  be  hazed,  to  go  scot  free, 
just  because  he  happens  to  be  strong,  and  a  hard  hitter; 
and  you  know  very  well  this  is  the  only  reason  why 
Allyne  hasn't  been  hazed  till  he  cried  '  Enough  ! '  It 
would  be  an  eternal  disgrace ;  and  we  should  never  hear 
the  last  of  it,  and  should  deserve  never  to.  Besides,  the 
conceited  dog  must  have  a  lesson :  we  owe  him  that 
for  his  own  good.  A  little  bath  in  the  river,  some  of 
these  cold  nights,  will  do  him  more  real  good  than  all 
he  will  learn  for  the  year.  It  will  be  safe  enough,"  he 
added  with  a  little  tinge  of  sarcasm,  "  for  Allyne  isn't 
the  man  to  cry  baby,  and  report  to  the  Faculty,  or  I'm 
much  mistaken,  though  I  do  believe  he  is  a  coward. 
And  then  you  know,  Sam,"  taking  his  arm,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  confidential  manner,  for  he  had  seen  the  young 
man's  face  flush  at  the  sneer,  "  we  want  the  men  of 
character  and  standing  in  the  class,  like  yourself,  to 
take  hold  of  this  business ;  for  it  is  a  class  matter. 
You  would  not  see  me  there  if  it  were  not." 

"You  may  count  me  in,"  was  Sam's  reply  to  this 
exhortation. 

T  think  it  must  he  conceded  that  Lyman  had  man- 


HAZING  A  FRESHMAN. 


279 


aged  his  case  well :  lie  was  a  man  to  carry  his  points, 
and  succeed  in  life. 

Twelve  o'clock  of  a  dark  cold  night,  in  the  latter 
part  of  November,  discovered  a  dusky  band  issue  noise- 
lessly from  the  northern  entry  of  Hollis,  and  taking  up 
the  line  of  march  for  AUyne's  room.  Silently  they  pro- 
ceeded across  the  yard ;  and  arriving  at  the  corner  of 
the  street  near  the  house  where  the  victim  lodged,  they 
halted  for  a  moment,  and  held  a  consultation.  After 
all,  a  man's  room  is  his  castle,  and  it  is  unwarrantable 
to  break  into  it,  simply  for  the  purpose  of  committing 
an  indignity;  and,  being  gentlemen  almost  without 
exception,  they  were  conscious  of  this.  All  around 
was  dark  and  quiet. 

"  There's  no  light  in  the  room:  he's  abed,"  whispered 
Longstreet,  walking  on  tiptoe  (he  had  been  forward  to 
reconnoitre).  "  Come  on,  boys,  and  don't  make  too 
much  noise  ;  the  outside  door  isn't  locked ;  and,  if  it  is, 
I've  got  a  key ;  we  must  nab  him  before  he's  half  waked 
up."  The  dusky  forms  stole  softly  through  the  door, 
and  up  the  stairs  to  the  landmg,  and  stopped  before 
the  devoted  Freshman's  door. 

"Now,"  whispered  Longstreet,  who  had  assumed 
command,  "  do  you  fellows  form  a  wedge ;  when  I  say 
'  three '  bust  in  the  door,  and  grab  him  before  he  can  get 
his  eyes  open."  Longstreet  stood  a  little  apart;  the 
black  figures  gather  noiselessly  into  a  mass ;  there  was 
a  whispered  "  one,  two,  three  !  "  —  a  crash  :  the  door 
flew  open,  the  wedge  was  precipitated  into  the  room, 
stumbling  over  chairs  and  tables,  while  the  Freshman 
sprang  out  of  bed  in  mortal  terror,  to  be  immediately 
grasped  by  strong  arms. 


280 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Here,  get  into  your  clothes,  and  be  quick  abo'ut  it ! " 
said  Longstreet,  flinging  his  garments  towards  him. 
The  fitful  gleam  from  the  grate  gave  a  ruddy  glow  in 
the  darkness,  by  the  aid  of  which  the  prisoner  was  suf- 
fered to  attire  himself  in  part. 

"  Now  trot  out  your  liquor  and  cigars,"  said  Hun- 
tingdon, turning  on  the  gas  a  little ;  and,  in  obedience, 
the  Freshman  produced  a  decanter,  with  some  glasses, 
and  a  box  of  cigars. 

"  Here,  you  big  bully,"  said  Longstreet ;  "  put  some 
coal  on  to  the  grate,  will  you  ?  or  do  you  want  your 
betters  to  freeze?"  The  unwilling  host  replenished  the 
fire,  which  soon  burst  out  into  a  cheerful  blaze. 

"  I  guess  he  won't  bite,"  said  Lewis  with  a  laugh. 
"  He  don't  look  very  savage  ;  "  and  indeed  he  did  not. 

"  Bite,  not  a  bit  of  it !  "  shouted  Longstreet,  capering 
around  the  room.  "  Ha,  ha !  Freshy,  you  didn't  expect 
us,  did  you?  You've  just  got  to  take  it  now:  never 
you  fear." 

"  Fill  up,  boys  !  "  called  Huntingdon,  standing  glass 
in  hand.  "  Come,  Sam ;  no  shirking.  Here's  a  health 
to  the  gallant  class  of  —  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  dog  ?  "  shouted  Long- 
street,  as  with  a  blow  he  dashed  the  glass  from  AUyne's 
hand,  to  shiver  against  the  grate  in  a  thousand  pieces ; 

"  you  don't  suppose  we'd  have  a  Freshman  drink 

with  us ;  "  and  he  drained  his  own  goblet  amidst  a 
shout  of  applause. 

Now  the  visitors  lighted  their  cigars,  and  formed  a 
half-circle  around  the  grate,  enclosing  their  host,  who 
appeared  perfectly  cowed,  crowding  him  into  close 
proximity  to  the  fiercely  blazing  fire.    "  Oh,  we  don't 


HAZING  A  FRESHMAN-. 


281 


mean  that  you  shall  catch  a  cold,"  said  Longstreet,  with 
a  merciless  laugh.  "  Close  up  on  him,  boys ;  let's  give 
Mm  a  scorching,"  and  growing  more  reckless  as  he 
poured  another  draught  of  the  fiery  Bourbon  down  his 
throat,  "  Here,  sit  down,  will  you  ?  I  want  something 
to  put  my  feet  on,"  he  said,  at  the  same  time  striking 
him  suddenly  behind  both  knees,  and  pulling  him  to 
the  floor,  a  trick  he  had  learned  from  long  practice  to 
execute  very  cleverly ;  after  which  he  used  him  for  a 
footstool,  coolly  blowing  the  smoke  from  his  cigar  into 
his  face. 

"  There,"  he  continued,  "  that's  what  I  call  comfort ; 
don't  you?  You've  found  your  true  level  at  last, 
haven't  you  ? "  and  he  poured  out  a  third  glass  of 
whiskey. 

"Stop,  Charley:  you've  had  enough,"  said  Hunting- 
don, interposing  his  arm. 

"  Well,  maybe  I  have  ;  but  I'd  like  to  know  what 
business  it  is  of  yours.  Let's  anoint  Freshy,  at  any 
rate  ;  "  and,  with  a  quick  turn  of  his  hand,  he  poured 
the  entire  glassful  on  the  unfortunate  man's  head. 
Then,  striking  a  match  with  the  utmost  nonchalance, 
"  Xow  we'll  see  if  he  keeps  a  good  article  ;  for,  if  it  is, 
it  ought  to  burn,"  shouted  he  ;  and  in  an  instant  more 
the  Freshman's  head  would  have  been  ablaze,  but  a 
dozen  hands  averted  the  danger,  while  AUyne  sprang 
to  his  feet,  with  fists  clinched  and  glaring  eyes. 

"  Ah,  he's  getting  waked  up  ;  isn't  he  ?  "  said  Long- 
street,  undisturbedly  enough.  Now,  boys,  let's  give 
him  a  regular  trial,  and  sentence  him  as  he  deserves. 
Hold  out  your  hands  till  I  tie  them  ; "  and  he  went  up 
to  the  brawny  Freshman  to  pinion  his  arms,  with  an 
indifference  to  consequences  almost  sublime. 


282 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  — —  me,  if  I  do  !  you  young  bantam,"  said  the 
Freshman,  with  a  growl ;  and,  with  a  quick  blow,  he 
sent  his  persecutor  spinning  quite  across  the  room. 
Then,  with  a  wild  look  around  for  some  defensive 
weapon,  he  grasped  a  chair,  and,  swinging  it  aloft  with 
brawny  arms,  he  stood  glaring  and  breathing  hard,  a 
desperate  and  dangerous  antagonist  for  a  score  attacking 
^  him  in  front.  But,  quicker  than  thought,  Lewis  and 
Hawes  seized  each  an  arm  from  behind,  the  chair  was 
wrenched  from  his  grasp,  and  his  arms  firmly  bound 
together  behind  his  back,  in  almost  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell.  Now  our  gallant  little  Longstreet  had 
his  man  in  his  power,  and  woe  be  to  him ! 

Before  any  one  could  interfere  to  prevent,  he  reached 
out  and  tweaked  his  nose  savagely,  and  then  struck 
him  twice  full  in  the  face  with  clinched  fist,  sharp, 
rapid  blows,  and  was  preparing  to  continue  his  punish- 
ment, when  Sam  caught  him,  and  held  him  back. 

"  Keep  quiet,"  he  said,  nervously.  "  Be  still,  I  say !  " 
shaking  the  little  fellow  with  one  strong  arm,  as  he 
struggled  to  break  away.  "You  are  drunk,  Charley, 
and  don't  know  what  you  are  doing.  Shame  on  you 
to  strike  a  man  in  the  face  who  cannot  defend  himself ! '-' 
and  he  shook  him  again  as  if  he  were  a  child.  "  Fel- 
lows, I  think,  if  we  can  make  any  adequate  apology 
to  this  man,  it  behooves  us  to  do  so,  and  leave  him." 
Silence.  "  I  don't  see  the  fairness  of  this  fighting  ten 
to  one,  and  you  wouldn't  if  you  hadn't  been  drinking. 
Chum,  I  think  you  had  better  come  with  me ;  and  I 
hope  all  the  boatmen  will  too.  If  this  is  keeping  up 
the  class  honor,  Ljanan,  I  for  one  should  much  prefer 
the  eternal  disgrace  that  follows  letting  this  man  alone. 


HAZING  A  FUESHMAK. 


Mr,  Allyne,  I  apologize  to  you  most  sincerely  for  my 
share  in  this  evening's  work; "  and  out  he  strode. 

As  big  as  a  turkey-gobbler,  isn't  he  ? "  said  Long- 
street,  contemptuously,  while  he  rubbed  his  shoulder 
released  from  Sam's  grasp. 

There  was  a  movement  on  the  part  of  Lewis  and 
Hawes,  as  if  the  matter  had  gone  far  enough. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Huntingdon,  in  a  half  whisper. 
"  I'm  glad  he's  out  of  the  way :  he  didn't  come  with 
any  grace  at  all ;  and  now  we  can  carry  out  our  pro- 
gramme.   You  haven't  forgotten  it,  I  hope." 

"  No,  I  hope  not,"  said  Longstreet,  rubbing  first  his 
shoulder  and  then  his  head.  "  Come,  boys,  in  the  first 
place,  blind  his  eyes."  Forthwith  a  handkerchief  was 
tied  securely  over  them. 

"  Now  put  him  in  the  culprit's  chair ;  there,  that  will 
do.  Now,  prisoner,  have  you  any  thing  to  say  why  you 
shouldn't  be  proceeded  with  just  as  we  please?"  A 
silence.  "  Of  course  you  haven't.  Ain't  you  a  Fresh- 
man ?  "  shouted  the  little  fellow,  while  the  others  roared 
with  laughter  to  see  him  hopping  about.  "  Haven't 
you  treasonably  asserted  that  you  wouldn't  be  hazed, 
and  that  there  were  not  men  enough  in  the  whole 
Sophomore  class  to  do  it  ?  Haven't  you  stirred  up  the 
Freshmen  generally  to  sedition  and  rebellion  against 
the  rule  of  their  lawful  superiors,  thereby  bringing 
many  woes  on  their  unlucky  heads ?  Haven't  you?  — 
Haven't  you?  —  Of  course  you  have,  and  more  too  ;  and 
therefore  it  is  that  I  pronounce  the  sentence,  that  you 
be  first  branded  on  the  cheek,  and  then  ducked  in  the 
river.    Proceed  to  execute  it !    Is  the  iron  red-hot  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  a  solemn  voice ;  and  the  poker 


284  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


heated  to  a  white  heat  was  held  in  danf^erous  proximity 
to  his  face,  while  an  icicle  was  suddenly  pressed  against 
his  cheek,  causing  a  most  uncomfortable  shock  to  the 
prisoner,  and  the  Sophomores  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh 
at  his  discomfiture. 

"  Now,  boys,  let's  take  him  down  to  the  wherry-raft, 
and  give  him  a  bath ;  and  then  I  think  both  parties  will 
be  satisfied,  and  we  can  leave  him  with  our  best  com- 
pliments," said  Huntingdon.  The  Freshman  was  in 
his  shirt-sleeves ;  and  Lyman  considerately  threw  his 
great-coat  over  his  shoulders,  and  assisted  him  to  put 
on  his  shoes.  Then  the  party,  Allyne  securely  guarded, 
marched  quietly  down  to  the  boat-houses  and  out  on  to 
the  wherry-raft.  The  night  was  dark;  not  a  star 
twinkled  through  the  gloom  ;  the  wind  blew  chill  over 
the  bare  brown  marshes;  and  the  river  swashed  by, 
black  and  cold. 

"You  can  swim,  can't  you?"  suggests  Lewis. 

"  Come,  in  with  you !  "  said  Huntingdon :  "  we've 
wasted  time  enough  over  your  case."  But  the  Fresh- 
man held  back. 

It's  a  little  rough  to  put  a  man  into  the  water  such 
a  night  as  this,"  he  said,  shivering  in  spite  of  himself. 
"  You  wouldn't  push  me  in  with  my  hands  tied  behind 
me,  would  you?"  he  asked  as  the  impulse  from  behind 
pressed  him  to  the  very  edge  of  the  water. 

Of  course  they  had  onl}^  intended  to  frighten  him, 
and  the  pressure  ceased  at  this. 

I  will  untie  your  hands,"  said  Huntingdon.  "  Turn 
around  so  that  I  can  get  at  them  ;  "  and  others  crowded 
up  to  assist  in  the  work.  There  was  no  alternative  :  he 
was  obliged  to  stand  on  the  edge  of  the  raft,  facmg 


HAZING  A  FRESHMAN. 


285 


the  water,  while  liis  hands  were  being  unbound.  How 
black  and  cold  it  looked !  Of  course  he  understood 
that,  the  instant  his  hands  were  free,  he  was  to  go  in. 
He  meant  to  whirl  around,  and  take  as  many  of  his  per- 
secutors with  liim  as  possible,  and  stood  warily  waiting 
for  the  first  sensation  of  a  loosening  of  the  cord ;  but, 
when  the  instant  so  breathlessly  awaited  did  come,  a 
vigorous  shove  sent  him  headlong  before  he  could  turn. 
As  he  fell,  his  left  hand  brushed  something,  closed  on 
it  with  vise-like  grasp;  and  such  was  his  tremendous 
strength,  that,  even  at  this  disadvantage,  he  dragged  the 
unwilling  and  confounded  Huntingdon,  whose  arm  he 
had  caught,  splashing  and  floundering  into  the  water 
with  him. 

Huntingdon  was  no  match  for  the  savage  and  sinewy 
Freshman.  "  I'ye  a  mind  to  drown  you,"  said  the 
latter.  "  How  do  you  like  this  ?  "  and  he  soused  him 
under,  and  held  his  head  down  as  long  as  he  dared. 
The  party  on  the  raft,  with  ill-concealed  lack  of 
sympathy,  shouted  with  laughter,  and  Longstreet  fairly 
capered  with  delight.  "  Go  in,  Huntingdon  !  "  he 
shrieked.  "  Go  in,  old  fellow :  don't  knock  under  to  a 
Freshman ! " 

There  was  a  splashing  and  blowing,  and  both  parties 
struck  out  for  the  raft,  on  to  which  they  climbed  cold 
and  dripping,  and  forthwith  started  on  a  run  for  their 
rooms ;  the  rest  following  slowly,  and  in  the  best  of 
humor.  Huntingdon  up  to  that  hour  had  indeed  been 
the  leading  man  in  the  class  ;  but  he  had  many  secret 
enemies,  and  few  real  friends  ;  and  there  were  those 
who  would  rejoice  at  his  fall,  even  though  they  did  not 
care  or  did  not  expect  to  rule  in  his  stead.    His  rule 


286 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


had  been  too  autocratic,  his  assumption  of  superiority 
too  plain,  to  endure  long. 

"  Why,  chum,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  was  Sam's  ex- 
clamation, as  the  breathless  and  dripping  man  burst 
into  the  room,  rushed  to  the  closet,  poured  out  and 
swallowed  a  tumbler  full  of  whiskey,  and,  stripping  off 
his  wet  and  clinging  garments,  rubbed,  himself  dry 
before  the  fire. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much :  I  have  been  into  the  water." 

"  So  I  perceive,"  said  Sam,  dryly.  "  I  should  think 
it  was  enough  too.  You  must  like  water  better  than  I 
do,  to  go  into  it  such  a  night  as  this  without  some 
especial  reason.    There  is  nobody  hurt,  I  hope." 

"  No,"  returned  Huntingdon,  with  a  growl ;  "  unless 
I  am.    I  suppose  I  may  as  well  out  with  it.    We  took 

that          Freshman  down  to  the  raft  to  duck  him.  I 

untied  his  hands,  and  the  rest  pushed  him  in ;  only  the 
fools  pushed  before  I  could  get  out  of  his  way.  He 
fastened  on  to  me,  and  I  went  too ;  and  the  scoundrel 
tried  to  drown  me,  held  my  head  under  water  five 

minutes,  I  should  think,  and,  it,  it  will  be  all  over 

college  before  to-morrow  noon.  I  wouldn't  have  had  it 
happen  for  ten  thousand  dollars  ;  "  and  he  meant  what 
he  said.. 

Sam  had  crammed  the  blanket  into  his  mouth,  and 
lay  very  quiet  till  he  could  trust  himself  to  speak. 
"  It's  a  bad  go ;  that  is  a  fact,  chum ;  and  I  am  sorry  for 
3^ou :  though,  if  you  had  all  gone  in  together,  I  should 
have  thought  it  served  you  right." 

"  But  I'll  make  that  Freshman's  life  a  curse  to  him," 
continued  the  irate  Sophomore,  "  and  any  other  man's 
too,  that  ever  mentions  this  affair." 


HAZING  A  PEESmiAN. 


287 


The  story  did  go  the  rounds  of  the  college  before  noon 
of  the  next  ^"lay :  how  could  it  possibly  be  other^vise? 
Allyne  '^as  more  than  satisfied  with  the  termination 
of  his  hazing  adventure,  so  that  he  even  forgave  Long- 
street  the  indignities  which  he  had  vowed  in  his  heart 
at  the  time  should  be  bitterly  avenged,  and  he  spread 
the  news  broadcast.  The  idea  of  the  elegant  and  fas- 
tidious Huntingdon,  the  "nobbiest"  man  in  the  Sopho- 
more class,  if  not  in  the  entire  college,  floundering  about 
in  the  river  of  a  cold  November  night,  and  a  Freshman 
whom  he  had  undertaken  to  haze  holding  his  head 
under  water,  was  too  good  to  be  kept  a  secret.  The 
story  circulated  with  amazing  rapidit}'.  Everybody 
knew  it  in  a  few  hours,  — professors  and  tutors,  under 
graduates,  and  members  of  the  professional  schools,  the 
"goodies"  and  "  pocos,"  and  even  old  John  Reed: 
everybody  in  the  little  college  world  heard  it,  and  had 
his  laugh  at  the  affair ;  and  though  no  one  dared  to  rally 
Huntingdon  on  his  adventure  openly  (and  his  classmates 
respected  his  wounded  pride  enough  to  refrain  fi^om  all 
allusion  to  the  catastrophe  in  his  presence),  members 
of  other  classes  were  not  always  so  particular,  and 
many  an  innuendo  was  levelled  at  him  by  the  impudent 
Freshmen. 

"  I  say,  Bob,"  one  would  call  to  another,  quite  loud 
enough  for  all  to  hear,  as  he  was  passing  a  group  of 
them,  perhaps  in  the  company  of  some  elegant  com 
panion,  —  "I  say,  Bob,  do  you  know  what  is  good  for 
indigestion?  " 

"  Well,  I  have  heard,"  Bob  would  reply,  with  a  pecu- 
liar drawl,  "  though  I  can't  say  that  I  ever  tried  it  myself, 
that  a  bath  in  the  river  any  of  these  cold,  dark  nights 


288 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


is  a  most  excellent  specific  for  the  disease."  Himting- 
don's  black  looks  at  such  times  had  no  effect  whatever 
on  these  irrepressible  fellows,  save  to  make  their  mirth 
the  more  boisterous. 

Thus,  by  the  merest  accident  as  it  would  seem,  Hunt- 
ingdon's popularity  and  influence  received  a  fatal  blow ; 
and  he  himself  felt  that  his  power  was  slipping  away, 
—  a  consummation  peculiarly  unpleasant  for  him  to 
contemplate,  for  love  of  power  was  perhaps  his  ruling 
passion.  He  knew  that  there  were  many  who  would 
only  be  too  glad,  when  the  right  moment  came,  to  pull 
him  down  from  his  high  place ;  though  he  still  stood 
the  recognized  class  leader. 

He  was  president  of  the  Institute,  the  one  Sophomore 
society  of  those  days,  into  which  he  had  been  chosen  with 
the  first  ten,  perhaps  the  very  foremost  of  that  advanced 
guard.  The  Institute  dated  its  origin  way  back  to 
1770,  and  was  a  very  pleasant  society  indeed.  About 
one-half  the  number  of  each  Sophomore  class  were 
admitted.  The  meetings  were  holden  each  week,  on 
Friday  night,  in  a  lower  room  in  Massachusetts ;  and  the 
entertainment  was  of  a  literary  character,  consisting  of 
debates  not  always  too  eloquent  or  brilliant,  a  lecture, 
usually  a  fair  Sophomoric  production,  and  a  paper  made 
up  of  original  contributions,  which  perhaps  compared 
favorably  with  similar  affairs  at  young  ladies'  seminaries. 
It  was  not  so  much  the  entertainment  that  was  enjoyed 
by  the  young  fellows,  as  the  meeting  together  and 
getting  acquainted,  the  freedom  of  the  hour,  and  the 
sense  of  proprietorship.  This  used  to  be  the  only 
opportunity  afforded  a  class  to  form  an  estimate  of  the 
talents  of  the  different  men,  until  the  Senior  societies 


HAZING  A  FEES  mi  AN.  -  289 

were  entered ;  so  that  the  Institute  was  yalnable  as  yre'l 
as  pleasant.  To  be  sure,  the  janitor  used  to  corne 
around  at  ten  o'clock '\:\'ith  his  lantern  and  his  big  bunch 
of  keys,  turn  off  the  gas,  and  lock  the  door ;  and  the 
"  Institute  "  was  expected  to  disperse.  In  Sam's  day 
they  used  frequently  to  disperse  by  repairing  to  the 
steps  of  the  old  church  in  the  square,  and  for  an  hour, 
in  the  mellow  moonlight,  make  night  melodious. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  there  was  the  annual  oration 
and  poem,  after  which  the  election  of  ten  meml^ers 
from  the  Freshman  class  was  in  order,  —  the  ten  most 
popular  Freshmen,  they  were  supposed  to  be,  who  filled 
np  the  number  allowed  from  their  class  when  they  in 
turn  became  Sophomores.  This  election  was  an  event 
of  great  honor  for  the  Freshmen  who  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  secure  it,  besides  affording  the  Sophomores  a  great 
deal  of  fun.  The  session,  often  protracted  and  stormy, 
once  over,  the  members  of  the  Institute  formed  a  pro- 
cession, headed  by  the  president,  and  visited,  in  turn, 
each  one  of  the  new  members  elect,  cheered  them,  and 
received  them  into  their  ranks,  after  which  the  entire 
company  marched  off  to  Kent's,  where  they  entered 
and  took  possession ;  and  oysters,  cobblers,  and  cigars 
were  provided  without  stint.  The  Freshmen  settled 
the  score,  always  a  long  one,  for  the  intention  was  to 
exhaust  Kent's  supplies ;  and  Kent,  understanding  this, 
was  sure  to  lay  in  a  bountiful  store.  These  customs 
prevailed  in  Sam's  clay  at  Harvard.  Though  Hunting- 
don was  president  of  the  Institute  this  first  term  of  the 
year,  Lyman  was  elected  to  fill  that  position  for  the 
second  term,  almost  unanimously. 

A  favorite  Sophomore  recreation  of  smashing  Fre.di- 


290 


STFDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


men's  windows  must  not  be  forgotten,  for  it  used  to  be 
one  of  the  prescriptive  customs  of  the  college.  The 
Freshmen  for  the  most  part  occupied  rooms  on  the 
ground-floor  in  Stoughton,  HoUis,  and  Old  Massachu- 
setts; and  every  Sophomore  class,  however  well  dis- 
posed or  well  behaved  in  other  respects,  used  to  break 
their  windows  not  only  once,  but  a  score  of  times. 
Tiie  student  returning  late  to  his  room,  across  the 
college  grounds,  would  hear  crash  after  crash,  and  see 
shadowy  forms  flitting  around  the  old  halls;  and  in 
the  morning  it  would  appear  that  every  Freshman's 
window  had  been  broken.  -And  this  would  happen 
again  and  again,  as  has  been  said,  too  often  to  be 
entertaining  to  the  unfortunate  occupants  of  the  rooms, 
for  in  cold  weather  it  was,  of  course,  a  very  serious 
annoyance.  The  glazier  would  come  in  due  time  with 
a  knowing  smirk  on  his  face,  perhaps  bringing  one 
assistant  with  him,  and  go  leisurely  to  work :  it  was 
all  gain  to  him,  for  there  was  no  competition.  The 
Sophomores  used  to  break,  and  the  college  at  large  to 
pay.    It  appeared  on  the  bill  thus,  —         ^  . 

Tq  special  repairs  hy  general  average  $5.00. 

That  was  the  student's  share  of  the  window-smashmg. 
He  must  ]3ay,  at  all  events :  if  he  had  not  broken  any, 
whose  fault  ? 

For  the  most  part,  the  Sophomores  used  to  be  a 
steady,  industrious  set  of  men,  perhaps  the  hardest- 
worked  of  any  in  the  college.  Hazing  died  away  after 
the  first  few  weeks.  The  jolly  fellows  who  in  the 
former  year  were  accustomed  to  cut  recitations  and 
prayers  with  so  much  indifference,  and  to  provoke  a 


HAZrS'G  A  FEES  mi  AX. 


291 


smile  even  on  the  face  of  the  stoical-visagecl  iiistirictcr, 
by  tlie  nonchalance  Avith  Tvhicli  they  nn'^wered.  Xct 
prepared,"  were  for  the  most  part  dropped  to  tread 
the  mazes  of  Freshman  year  over  again,  or  vrere  rus- 
ticating in  some  pleasant  though  retired  retreat :  and 
the  class  was  fairly  in  workino'  order,  while  hard  ta.-ks 
were  doled  out  in  abundance.  "What  an  enddess  amount 
it  seemed,  to  look  at  it  in  the  lump  I — mathematics, 
chemical  physics  and  chemistr}-,  Greek  and  Latin, 
Anglo-Saxon,  themes,  elocution  and  lectures  :  there  was 
enough  to  keep  the  most  inveterate  dig  busy,  and  to 
create  in  the  mind  of  a  man  of  fair  ability  and  average 
ambition  a  disgust  for  study  that  would  endure  long- 
after  the  faint  smattering  he  acquired  had  passed  away. 
At  least  it  used  to  be  so  under  the  "  old  regime.'' 

There  was  one  never-failing  cause  for  ]oy,  however; 
and  that  was  that  the  Freshman  year  was  passed.  The 
Sophomores  still  looked  up  with  admiration  and  respect 
to  the  dignified  Seniors,  whose  very  air  seemed  to 
say,  "We  are  the  college;"  but  they  did  net  appear 
so  very  far  removed  as  they  had  seemed  a  year  ago. 
There  was  the  long,  pleasant  vista  of  Junior  year  vvdth 
its  easy  electives,  and  days  calling  for  perhaps  but  a  sin- 
gle hour  in  the  recitation-room,  drawing  steadily  nearer. 
The  professors,  whom  the  Sophomores  met  for  the  first 
time,  were  different  men  from  the  tutors  vdio  had  had 
charge  of  the  class.  There  was  Mr.  Chubby,  who  pre- 
sided over  Anglo-Saxon  and  themes,  —  a  genial,  culti- 
vated, high-toned  gentleman,  whose  very  presence  was 
an  inspiration,  and  whom  any  one  might  know  inti- 
mately, or  at  least  pleasantly,  if  he  cared  to  take  the 
trouble.    There  was  the  "Philosopher,"'  who  infused 


292 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


the  very  breath  of  life  into  the  Latin  which  had  hitherto 
been  so  (hy  and  inanimate,  clothed  it  with  real  interest, 
and  made  it  almost  a  living  reality,  so  that  one  won- 
dered at  the  revelation,  —  a  philosopher  in  very  truth. 
There  was  almost  a  feeling  of  regard  for  him  as  though 
lie  were  a  personal  friend ;  for  he  took  a  deep  interest 
in  boating,  stopped  many  a  time  to  watch  the  ball- 
plaj'ers  on  the  Delta,  applauding  enthusiastically  every 
piece  of  brilliant  play,  and  was  the  well-wisher  of  every 
student  and  his  concerns.  There  was  the  Greek  pro- 
fessor, too,  learned  and  kindly  and  most  difBdent  withal, 
yet  of  so  upright  and  thorough-going  integrity  that  it 
was  a  disadvantage  almost  to  be  acquainted  with  him  ; 
for,  through  fear  of  shov/ing  something  like  favoritism, 
he  was  likely  to  err  in  the  opposite  direction;  who, 
though  at  flrst  not  quite  appreciated,  was  remembered 
as  a  noble  man.  At  the  termination  of  the  Sophomore 
year^  Sam  would  have  modified  very  much  his  state- 
>  ments  regard hig  the  instructors,  and  the  feeling  with 
v/hich  tliey  were  regarded. 

There  was  a  great  revolution  in  the  rank-list  during 
this  year,  as  well  as  in  the  popularity  and  standing  of 
many  of  the  men.  It  was  now  that  those  persevering, 
industrious  students,  poorly  fitted  perhaps,  who  had 
been  working  at  a  disadvantage,  began  to  gain  ground, 
as  the  years  of  preparation  told  less  and  less  in  favor 
of  eacli  man;  while  many  a  faint  heart  gave  up  the 
fight,  and  disappeared  from  the  list  altogether. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  year,  several  new  members 
had  joined  the  class,  —  Fresh-Sophomores,  as  they  are 
called,  —  audit  appeared  that  one  of  them  bid  fair  to 
surpass  every  one  in  point  of  scholarship.  Lewis, 


HAZING  A  FEESHMAN. 


293 


Adams,  and  Sam  had  been  talking  over  class  matters 
one  evening,  and  discussing  various  men,  v/lien  Adams 
said  suddenly,  addressing  Sam,  "  Your  dear  and  par- 
ticular friend  Villiers  won't  lead  the  class  this  year,  or 
I  am  mistaken." 

"  You  don't  propose  to  dispute  the  headship  with  him 
yourself,  I  take  it,"  returned  Sam,  good-naturedly,  at 
which  Lewis  broke  out  into  his  hearty  "  Haw,  havv^ !  " 

"  No,"  returned  Adams,  imperturbably  ;  but  there 
is  a  man  in  our  division  who  will,  and  successfully  too." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  " 
I  believe  his  name  is  Cole.  He  is  a  scrubby-looking 
sort  of  fellow,  whom. nobody  seems  to  know  or  care 
much  about ;  but  he  does  make  the  most  awful  squirts 
you  ever  heard.  \Ye  all  wink  at  each  other,  and  lay 
back,  and  take  it  easy,  when  he  is  called  up  ;  for  he 
would  recite  the  whole  lesson  if  he  v/ere  permitted :  he 
seems  fairly  to  revel  in  it.  He  and  the  '  Philosopher ' 
have  a  very  pleasant  tete-d-tete  nearly  every  day." 

"  They  say  he  fitted  himself,  and  that  he  never  went 
to  school  a  year  in  his  life,"  said  Lewis  ;  and  I  under- 
stood that  his  w^ork  had  been  almost  absolutely  perfect." 

"  Well,"  said  Sam  stoutly,  for  his  faith  in  his  friend 
was  steadfast,  "if  he  can  beat  Villiers,  he  is  welcome 
to  do  it." 


XVIIL 


CAMBRIDGE  SOCIETY. 

"  Clmm.  you  are  getting  to  be  almost  as  much  of  a 
ilig  as  that  scrubby  Villiers  you  go  with  so  much." 
This  remarli  was  called  forth  from  Huntingdon  by 
Sam's  refusing  an  invitation  to  spend  the  evening  with 
him  in  the  city. 

"  Villiers  is  a  gentleman  if  there  is  one  in  the  class," 
flashed  Sam  ;  "  and  I  wish  you  would  remember  that 
he  is  my  friend." 

He  is  indeed  a  gentleman,"  exclaimed  Lyman, 
"  though,  you  Avould  hardly  guess  it  until  you  came  to 
know  him  thoroughly.  I  always  supposed  he  was  one 
of  the  poor  devils  that  studied  for  a  scholarship  ;  but 
when  I  went  to  him  with  the  subscription-paper  for 
the  repairs  on  the  boat-houses,  as  I  did  only  after  con- 
siderable hesitation,  he  came  down  with  a  hundred  dol- 
lars plump,  drew  his  check  for  it,  by  Jove  !  and  that 
opened  my  eyes.  I  was  just  surprised  to  find  what  a 
nice  fellow  he  is." 

"  He  is  one  of  the  right  sort,"  said  Tom  Hawes,  who 
chanced  to  be  in  the  room,  smoking,  of  course:  ''tliat's 
what  h.e  is.  A  man  who  will  live  close,  and  give  his 
n:ioney  to  help  out  public  enterprises,  is  one  of  the  right 
sort,  I  say."  In  fac  t,  any  one  v/ho  helped  along  the  cause 
of  boating  was  one  of  the  "  right  sort  "  in  Tom's  eyes. 

294 


CAMBBIDGE  SOCIETY. 


295 


"  If  he  lives  close,  it  is  not  because  he  needs  to,"  said 
Will  Adams,  "as  I  happen  to  know."  Adams  was 
stretched  at  length  on  the  lounge  before  the  grate,  the 
picture  of  indolent  ease  ;  and  had  so  far  mastered  his 
pipe  that  he  was  smoking  very  comfortably.  "  I  have  u 
friend  "  (there  was  a  general  laugh  when  Adams  men- 
tioned his  "  friend  ")  "  whose  uncle  is  one  of  the  trus- 
tees of  his  property ;  and  there  is  a  deuced  lot  of  it ; 
and,  you  wouldn't  believe  it,  but  he  draws  three  thou- 
sand a  year." 

There  was  a  general  exclamation  at  this  statement. 

"  ^^o,  I  shouldn't  believe  it,"  rejoined  Huntingdon, 
sarcastically,  "  unless  I  knew  it  for  certain.  You  have 
-put  one  too  many  ciphers  on,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  What  ever  can  he  do  with  the  money,  Sam  ?  give  it 
away  ?  "  continued  Adams,  not  noticing  Huntingdon's 
rejoinder. 

"  I  never  knew  or  cared  any  thing  about  his  money," 
refcurned  Sam,  warmly;  "but  I  have  known  for  a  year 
that  he  was  one  of  the  most  splendid  fellows  in  the 
class." 

"  And  fortunate  above  all  in  that  he  has  Wentworth 
for  his  friend,  and  Adams  for  his  panegyrist,"  said 
Huntingdon,  sneeringly,  as  he  strode  out,  not  too  well 
pleased  with  the  expression  of  friendliness  tov<^ards 
Villiers  which  his  thoughtless  remark  had  called  forth. 

Of  all  the  men  who  were  beginning  to  hold  a  high  place 
in  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  the  Sophomores,  Yilliers, 
as  the  year  advanced,  stood  the  foremost.  Though  he 
had  been  voted  a  dig,  and  certainly  was  one,  it  was  felt 
that  he  had  conferred  honor  upon  the  class  by  his 
almost  perfect  scholarship  ;  but  that  he  was  also  inter- 


296 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


ested  in  tlie  welfare  of  tlic  class  and  of  the  college,  and 
lent  his  strength  to  further  every  commendable  under- 
taking, soon  came  to  be  apparent.  He  had  been  one 
of  the  few  to  help  bring  about  the  great  improvements 
at  the  boat-houses  ;  he  was  deeply  interested  in  the 
success  of  the  college  "  nine ; "  and  his  tall  form  was 
prominent  at  most  of  the  championship  games.  He 
had  showed  himself  a  powerful  speaker,  weighty  rather 
than  quick,  in  the  Institute  debates ;  he  was  always 
ready  to  receive  his  classmates  at  his  room,  and  culti- 
vated their  acquaintance  in  a  manner  peculiarly  his  own, 
selecting  for  his  attentions  for  the  most  part  those  shy, 
reserved,  retiring  men,  whose  talents  frequently  escape 
notice  until  late  in  the  curriculum,  if  indeed  they  are 
not  passed  by  altogether.  Moreover  there  was  a  magne- 
tism about  him,  indescribable  but  most  potent,  which 
inspired  confidence,  and  commanded  respect. 

It  was  true,  too,  that  Sam,  in  spite  of  his  thoughtless 
companions  who  made  that  upper  entry  in  HoUis  the 
merriest  and  most  frequented  spot  in  the  college,  was 
becoming  almost  as  exemplary  as  Villiers.  There  Avas 
a  determination  and  character  about  him  which  had 
been  quite  foreign  to  his  character  a  year  ago.  There 
was  no  more  running-up  of  extravagant  tailor's  bills,  no 
more  wanton  squandering  of  money,  no  more  associating 
with  idle  and  riotous  students.  He  went  at  the  year's 
work  with  a  will ;  and  spherical  trigonometry  and 
chemical  physics  appeared  to  be  the  delight  of  his 
existence.  Everybody  said,  "  What  a  dig  Sam  Went- 
worth  is  jxettino'  to  be  !  "  and  Huntino-don  rallied  him 
bitterly  sometimes,  as  we  have  seen.  "  There  must  be 
some  good  reason  for  all  this,"  he  said  more  than  once, 


CAMBKIDGE  SOCIETY. 


297 


looking  sharply  at  him,  and  with  an  expression  not  half 
pleased.  "  Why,  the  man  hasn't  drunk  a  thimbleful 
of  punch  this  year,  or  smoked  a  cigar  ;  he  is  a  perfect 
anchorite,  and  a  regular  dig  I  "  Huntingdon  himself 
had  fallen  out  with  work,"  as  he  expressed  it ;  and 
his  brilliant  recitations  were  becoming  very  rare  indeed. 

Sam  kept  his  own  counsel :  and  not  even  to  Villiers 
had  he,  at  this  time,  uttered  a  word  as  to  the  causes 
which  had  wrought  this  change  in  him,  though  the  two 
Tounix  fellows  were  to^rether  more  than  ever :  and  Sam 
came  by  degrees  to  consider  college  a  place  for  earnest 
study,  rather  than  for  recreation  or  enjoyment. 

The  Thornes,  mother  and  daughter,  lived  in  a  fnie 
house  surrounded  by  elaborate  grounds,  in  one  of  the 
neighboring  5uburi)S,  three  miles  or  more  away  from 
the  colleges ;  and  Sam  was  not  long  in  fniding  the 
shortest  way  there.  It  was  a  pleasant  tramp  across  the 
fields  beyond  the  river  ;  and  the  way  became  in  time  as 
familiar  to  him  as  the  path  to  the  chapel.  The  old  toll- 
keeper  at  the  bridge  soon  knew  his  cheery  face  and 
swmging  stride,  and  had  many  a  friendly  gossip  Avith 
him  about  them  college  boys,"  as  he  stopped,  on  the 
bitter  winter  evenings,  to  warm  up  a  bit  over  the  little 
stove. 

Mrs.  Thorne  was  one  of  the  best  style  of  Xew  England 
ladies,  —  cultivated,  rich,  generous,  and  kind-hearted. 
She  v\'as  pleased  to  see  the  lively  young  fellow,  and 
to  welcome  him  for  his  mother's  sake.  She  told  him 
in  her  own  charmingly  hospitable  manner  that  her  house 
would  always  be  open  to  him,  and  that  he  must  try  to 
let  it  take  the  place  of  his  own  home  while  he  should 
be  at  Cambridge.    She  made  a  generous  effort  to  gel 


298 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


leave  of  the  Faculty  for  liim  to  spend  Sundays  at  her 
house,  and  attend  divine  worship  with  her  family ;  but 
this  was  asking  too  much  of  that  body.  He  took  tea 
there,  however,  every  Sunday  evening  without  excep- 
tion during  this  college  year;  and  jMrs.  Tliorne's  car- 
riage was  always  waiting  to  take  him  to  his  room. 
That  he  was  the  most  fortunate  man  in  the  college,  lie 
was  free  to  confess.  He  used  to  look  forward  to.  Sun- 
day evening  as  the  bright  spot  in  the  week. 

"  I  tell  you,  Villiers,"  he  would  say  in  his  own  impet- 
uous fashion,  you  ought  to  go  and  see  her  at  home  of 
an  evening.  She  was  divine,  absolutely  divine,  last 
summer ;  but  she  is  a  thousand  times  more  bewitching 
in  her  own  house.  I  don't  know  what  will  become  of 
me,"  he  added,  ruefully,  a  score  of  times. 

By  "  her "  he  meant  Rose.  Her  reception  of  him 
had  been  cordial  and  sincere.  He  had  found  his  way 
to  her  house  the  second  afternoon  after  his  return  to 
Cambridge,  in  the  troubled  frame  of  mind  which  only 
a  lover  knows.  It  had  been  seven  whole  days  since 
he  had  seen  her,  —  seven  years,  it  seemed  after  their 
daily  intimacy  ;  and  as  he  strode  up  the  firm  smooth 
driveway,  he  hoped  and  feared,  doubted  and  believed,  by 
turns.  It  seemed  as  thousfh  the  summer  witli  its  almost 
blissful  ending  was  only  a  dream,  and  that  when  he 
should  meet  her  again  it  Avould  be  only  as  a  pleasant 
acquaintance.  "  I  won't  give  my  name,  if  you  please," 
lie  said  as  the  servant  looked  inquiringly  at  him  ;  and 
he  waited  three  whole  minutes  in  the  most  thoroughly 
uncomfortable  state.  Light  steps  soon  came  quickly 
down  the  stairs  and  into  the  room.  "  Ah,  I  know  who 
it  is,  Sam  ! "  she  called,  putting  out  both  her  hands 


CAMBKIDGE  SOCIETY.  299 

wiili  a  cliarming  smile  ;  "  and  you  are  very  welcome  to 
our  liome ;  "  and  straight wa}'  all  doubt  A'aiiished  from 
the  boy's  heart.  He  was  as  happy  as  a  bird.  He  could 
not  tell  how  it  was,  but  somehow  he  was  always  happy 
in  her  presence  he  thought ;  it  was  enough  to  be  near 
her,  see  her  moving  about,  even  though  he  kept  silence , 
and  no  one  who  Imew  her  and  saAV  her,  as  he  did,  would 
wonder  that  the  vouns:  fellow  was  charmed. 

The  afternoon  was  one  to  be  remembered.  "  I  am 
going  to  take  you  for  a  drive,  and  sIioav  you  some  of  the 
pretty  places  about  here,"  Rose  said,  presently.  "  We 
think  very  much  of  our  drives,  though  I  believe  those 
about  Little  Harbor  were  prettier.  Mamma  will  be  at 
home  at  tea-time ;  and  I  shall  bring  you  back,  for  she 
wishes  to  see  you,  and  bid  you  welcome ; "  and  she 
whirled  him  off  in  the  daintiest  little  phaeton  in  the 
world.  "I  always  drive  my  ponies  myself,"  she  said, 
laughingly,  in  reply  to  a  half-gesture  of  her  companion. 
They  rolled  smoothh'  along  past  CA^en,  close-shaven 
lawns,  under  arching  elms,  chatting  merrily  all  the  time. 
"What  wonder  that  he  was  intoxicated  with  delight ! 
The  call  was  prolonged  to  a  late  hour  in  the  evening. 
Besides  the  Sunday  tea-drinking,  Sam  went  to  see  Rose 
as  often  as  he  dared,  and  looked  eagerly  forward  to  the 
time  when  Kate  should  come  to  make  the  promised 
visit ;  for  then  he  would  have  an  excuse  for  going  as 
often  as  he  pleased. 

As  the  months  of  the  year  rolled  swiftly  by,  Sam's 
infatuation  for  iNIiss  Thorne  came  to  be  pretty  generally 
known  and  talked  over  and  lauQ:hed  at  in  the  little 
college  workl,  though  he  was  himself  entirely  ignorant 
that  this  was  the  case.    Since  the  victory  at  Quinsiga- 


300 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


mond,  the  crew  had  all  become,  to  a  certam  degree,  the 
property  of  the  college,  and  none  more  so  than  Sam, 
Avho  had  become  a  very  general  favorite  with  all  classes. 
The  exposure  was  owing  to  the  good  of&ces  of  his 
chnm.  Villiers  had  been  with  him  to  call  at  the 
Thornes',  and  hatl  divined  what  was  only  too  apparent  ; 
moreover  Sam,  who  must  needs  make  a  confidant  of 
some  one,  had  told  his  story  to  Villiers  without  re- 
serve. 

"  She  is  a  lovely  girl,  a  capable  girl,"  said  Villiers, 
seriously  and  slowly.  ^'  I  am  not  sure  but  there  is  a 
deep  nature  there  which  Ave  have  not  yet  discovered ; 
but,"  he  added,  half  hesitatingly,  "  I  shouldn't  have 
selected  her  for  you,  I  think."  Any  thing  divulged  to 
Villiers  in  confidence  was  as  a  sealed  book ;  and  no  one 
would  ever  have  been  the  wiser  about  all  this,  for  him. 

It  was  quite  the  reverse  with  Huntingdon.  He  too 
went  with  Sam  to  "  call  on  that  pretty  Miss  Thorne  ;  " 
and  he  rallied  him  unmercifully  in  his  half-patronizing, 
half-sarcastic  manner,  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of  the 
door. 

"  A  little  soft  on  R.  T.,  aren't  you,  chum  ?  I  under- 
stand it  all  now  ;  "  and  he  gave  a  soft,  pleased,  musical 
laugh,  albeit  unpleasant  enough  in  his  companion's 
ears.  "I  thought  the  young  man  didn't  drop  all  his 
fun,  and  turn  dig,  for  nothing:  I  thought  we  should 
get  at  the  reason  for  all  this,  if  we  were  very  quiet, 
and  kept  our  eyes  open  ;  "  and  he  laughed  once  more. 
Then  speaking  seriously,  and  moving  close  to  Sam's 
side,  and  slipping  his  arm  through  his,  as  the  twain 
trudged  along  in  the  darkness,  he  continued.  Let 
me  give  you  a  piece  of  advice,  chum,  as  I  would 


CAMBRIDGE  SOCIETr. 


301 


give  it  to  my  brother,  if  I  had  one.  I  am  older  than 
you,  and  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  world,  "  —  and  his 
voice  fell, — "  a  great  deal  for  a  young  man.  Let  me 
warn  3'on  before  it  is  too  late.  Don't  fall  in  love  with 
this  girl.  If  you  fancy  that  you  are  in  love  with  her 
now,  fight  it  down  like  a  man :  you  will  have  to  do  it 
.  some  time  ;  and  better  do  it  of  your  ov/n  accord,  and 
keep  your  self-respect,  than  to  have  to  come  to  it  by 
and  by,  wlien  everybody  will  talk  about  it ;  for,  as  far 
as  getting  any  return  of  affection,  you  might  as  well 
buy  a  beautiful  image,  and  love  that,  —  ay,  better ;  for 
there  was  a  fellow  once  wlio  loved  so  well  that  he 
warmed  a  marble  statue  into  life  ;  but  no  man  will  ever 
do  so  much  for  this  lady  of  yours.  Oh,  I  don't  expect 
you  to  believe  me !  "  he  said,  as  Sam  made  an  indig- 
nant movement ;  "  but  what  I  say  is  true.  I  have  seen 
just  such  women  before ;  very  well  in  their  place  and 
way,  but  the  worst  in  the  world  for  a  hot-headed  3*oung 
fellow  to  fall  in  love  with. 

"  She  treats  you  tindly ;  and  so  you  love  her,  and 
think  she  is  fond  of  you;  but,  my  dear  boy,  she  is  just 
as  polite  and  kind  to  every  one  else.  She  is  so  because 
it  is  her  nature  to  be  so,  and  not  because  she  ever 
thinks  about  it,  or  means  any  thing  by  it ;  and  if  you 
ever  test  matters,  as  I  hope  you  never  will,  you  v/ill 
find  that  I  am  right.  Chum,  slie  has  no  heart !  Oh, 
there  are  lots  of  women  Avithout  that  troublesome 
organ,  as  3'ou  will  discover  for  yourself  before  you  are 
ten  years  older.  She  is  simply  a  beautiful  piece  of 
mechanism.  It  often  happens  that  the  handsomest 
v/omen  are  made  up  in  just  tliat  way;  and  I  am  not 
sure  but  that  it  is  a  good  thing  for  the  world  generally, 


302 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


that  tliey  are.  Tliey  marry  often,  of  course,  sometimes 
for  the  loaves  and  fishes,  sometimes  because  it  is  a  con- 
venience, sometimes  for  reasons  that  no  human  heino- 
can  divine  ;  but  deliver  me  from  such  an  one  !  I  want 
a  woman  with  a  little  touch  of  enthusiasm,  a  little  dash 
of  passion ;  in  short,  a  woman. 

"  See,  if  you  don't  believe  me,  if  you  can  ever  rouse  • 
this  girl  of  yours  out  of  her  perfectly  amiable  condi- 
^  tion.  See  if  you  can  ever  make  her  face  flush,  or  her 
eyes  glitter,  or  surprise  her  into  emotion  of  any  kind. 
If  you  can,  I  am  mistaken,  as  for  your  sake  I  hope  I 
am.  I  don't  know  her  historj^,  nor  any  thing  about 
her;  but  I  would  wager  any  sum  that  she  has  had 
splendid  offers  before  this,  and  has  sent  them  away; 
and,  if  she  ever  marries,  it  will  be  after  she  is  an  old 
maid,  and  a  man  twice  her  own  age.  I  have  talked 
plainly  to  you,  chum,  and  have  offended  you,  I  dare 
say;  but  for  no  reason  other  than  good- will  to  you,  you 
may  be  sure.  I  hate  to  see  you  get  tangled  up  in  a 
mess  of  this  kind ;  for  after  you  have  once  given  your 
whole  soul  to  some  girl  or  other,  and  she  has  thrown  it 
away,  the  world  v/on't  be  so  fresh  and  rosy  again." 

This  was  Huntingdon's  warning,  delivered  with  a  sin- 
cerity and  enthusiasm  which  he  very  rarely  exhibited ; 
but  who  ever  took  advice  on  such  a  matter  ?  As  the 
weeks  glided  swiftly  away,  Sam  was  drifting  faster  and 
faster  to  his  fate,  becoming  each  day  more  diseply  and 
hopelessly  involved ;  but  the  hopeless  element  had 
not  become  prominent  as  yet,  and  he  had  never  known, 
perhaps  never  was  to  know,  so  happy  a  time  as  the  fall 
and  vv^inter  months  of  this  Sophomore  year.  There  was 
the  hard  worji,  its.elf  a  pleasure  ;  the  conscious  determi- 


ca:mbPvIdge  society. 


303 


nation  to  do  his  dutv  ;  tlie  stealing  away  from  his 
college  companions  for  an  evening,  after  hoars  of  hard 
application;  the  tramp  across  the  brown  fields  and  over 
the  river ;  the  hours  that  were  like  an  enchanting 
dream;  the  hiu^ried  walk  back  to  HoUis.  after  which 
the  prayer-bell  seemed  to  ring  in  an  inconceivably  short 
space  of  time.  "When  Kate  came,  as  she  did  immedi- 
atelv  after  the  Thanksoivino;  recess,  he  eave  his  incliiia- 
tion  a  free  rein,  and  spent  his  evenings  almost  entirely 
in  the  service  and  companionship  of  the  young  ladies. 
Xor  conld  the  most  fastidious  lady  have  wished  for  a 
more  prepossessing  esquire.  His  ciming  chestnut  hair 
had  grown  out  again:  his  ruddy,  handsome  face  beamed 
with  good-nature  ;  his  splendid  physique  was  the  ad- 
miration and  envv  of  half  the  men  in  the  colleo-e.  A 
year  and  a  half  of  college  life  had  removed  CA'ery  trace 
of  rusticity ;  and  he  had  aco^itired  a  grace  and  dash  of 
manner  entirelv  his  own.  His  sister  mio-ht  well  be 
proud  of  him. 

He  was  the  regular  escort  of  these  tv.-o  young  ladies 
on  all  their  pleasure-seeking  exciu-sions,  met  many 
fashionable  people  at  Mrs.  Thome's  house,  and,  during 
the  winter,  went  the  rounds  of  polite  society,  where  he 
might  have  been  the  peculiar  idol  and  pet  of  the  ladies, 
vounc^  and  old.  but  where  indeed  he  found  nothincr 
beautiful,  nothing  charming,  nothing  attractive,  save 
his  Rose.  He  looked  forward  to  the  vacation —  those 
weeks  of  'separation  —  with  dread,  and  wished  that  the 
year  might  be  one  continuous  term  from  September  to 
•June. 

His  devotion  was  too  thorough-going  to  have  escaped 
observation  and  comment,  even  if  his  chum  had  not 


304 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


spread  the  news  immediate -y  after  tliat  memorable  call. 
The  little  spasm  of  sincerity  that  had  come  over  him, 
when  ho  first  discovered  hi  ^  chum's  situation,  had  been 
too  lionest  to  last.  The  stury  was  too  good  a  one  to  be 
kept  a  secret,  and  ho  told  it  to  the  company  in  that 
upper  entry  of  Hollis  without  delay.  It  lost  nothing 
by  his  telling,  and  straightwoy  went  the  rounds  of  the 
college  world ;  and,  as  has  been  said,  Sam's  infatuation 
was  universally  talked  over  and  laughed  about. 

As  his  intimacy  v/ith  Rose  grew  apace,  and  he  had 
more  time  to  think  over  the  matter,  the  words  which 
Huntingdon  had  spoken,  which  were  so  unacceptable  at 
the  time,  impressed  him  m'^re  and  more;  and  he  began 
to  think  there  was  something  wanting  in  his  relations 
to  Rose,  though  he  coiild  not  have  told,  perhaps,  just 
v^rhat  it  v/as.  There  were  times  when  he  felt  that  she 
did  not  fill  the  measure  of  his  ideal.  She  was  a  fine 
musician,  a  faultless  perfc  rmer  on  the  piano,  and  a 
beautiful  singer.  "  Kate  is  nothing  compared  with 
her,"  was  his  thought ;  but,  after  his  first  enthusiasm 
was  over,  he  was  obliged  t;'  confess  that  he  had  done 
his  sister  injustice,  and  his  ^^ensitive  nature  failed  to 
detect  any  thing  more  in  hrr  playing  than  perfect  exe- 
cution and  faultless  vocaiism  in  her  other  musical 
efforts.  One  evening  she  phi)  dd  a  sonata  at  his  request, 
which  had  been,  of  all  comp  jsitions,  his  favorite  when 
at  home.  He  used  to  think  that  there  Avas  nothing  like 
it,  as  he  listened  to  his  siste  •  .-^  exquisite  rendering;  and 
great  had  been  liis  delight  at  the  prospect  of  hearing  it 
once  more.  But  ho  hardh  .ecognized  his  old  friend; 
and  he  felt  so  disappointeu,  tliat  he  thought  he  should 
never  care  to  hear  it  again. 


CAJSIBEIDGE  SOCIETY. 


805 


One  day,  late  in  the  winter,  Rose  slipped  on  an  icj 
pavement,  and  received  a  sprain  that  made  a  prisoner 
of  lier  for  several  weeks.  During  this  time,  Sam 
neglected  all  his  duties,  so  far  as  possible,  and  was 
nnremittinc:  in  his  attentions.  He  brouo^ht  her  his 
favorite  books,  and  read  to  her  by  the  hour ;  his  favorite 
bits  of  Greek  poetry,  —  of  which  language  he  was  very 
fond,  —  he  translated  with  an  enthusiasm  that  amused 
liis  fair  auditor.  "  If  you  could  only  read  them  out 
yourself  from  the  original,  you  woidd  like  them  as  well 
as  I  do,"  Sam  said ;  for  he  could  not  but  notice  her  lack 
of  appreciation:  "  you  would  then  see  how  worthy  they 
are  to  have  lived  all  these  years,  to  be  read  and  admired 
by  hundreds  of  generations  of  men."  Flowers  and 
such  trifles  he  brought  as  often  as  he  dared.  Yes,  he 
did  all  that  a  generous-hearted,  enthusiastic  young 
fellow  could  do,  brought  all  his  offerings,  and  laid  them 
at  his  mistress's  feet ;  and  they  were  all  received  with 
the  same  pleasant  smile,  the  same  amiable  manner,  that 
had  characterized  her  actions  from  the  very  outset. 
By  degrees  he  came  to  feel  that  there  was  something 
wi^ong;  to  feel  that  in  spite  of  his  kind  reception,  in 
spite  of  the  pleasant  hours  passed  together,  in  spite  of 
their  charming  drives  and  sleighing-parties,  in  spite  of 
her  invariable  acceptance  of  his  company  as  her  partner 
in  the  german,  or  as  her  escort  to  the  opera,  he  was  not 
gaining  ground  in  the  least.  What  plans  the  young 
fellow  had  formed,  or  what  it  was  he  expected  and 
wanted,  cannot  be  told ;  but  it  was  not  in  his  nature 
to  Vv^ait,  like  Yilliers,  till  reason  told  him  circumstances 
justified  action.  Here  he  was,  —  a  man  in  stature,  but 
a  boy  in  every  thing  else,  with  not  even  a  thought  an 


306 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


to  the  wa3'S  and  means  of  life,  and  a  horizon  that  did 
not  reach  beyond  Class  Day.  He  hardly  expected  ever 
to  marry  his  goddess :  she  was  too  much  his  goddess 
for  that ;  but  just  as  he  had  given  his  heart  and  soul 
to  the  season's  work  in  the  boat,  so  he  had  devoted 
himself  this  Sophomore  year  to  Rose  Thorne,  and  he 
felt  a  keen  sense  of  disappointment,  sometimes  mingled 
with  apprehension.  Though  this  feeling  was  way 
down  below  his  college  life  with  its  many  pleasures, 
below  his  social  round  of  gay  gatherings,  below  the 
intoxicating  companionship  with  the  young  lady,  below 
his  perfect  accord  with  his  mother  and  sister,  it  was 
there,  and  haunted  him  at  unguarded  moments,  like  a 
terrible  nightmare. 

Most  of  this  is,  however,  anticipatory.  It  was  the 
growth  of  a  year,  not  of  the  few  moments  it  takes  to 
tell ;  and  this  first  term  was  almost  purely  a  season  of 
unalloyed  pleasure. 

The  rolling  year  brought  around  the  Cambridge 
assemblies  once  more,  and  again  Sam  was  one  of  the 
favored  students  honored  with  a  card;  and  this  time 
he  was  not  a  Freshman,  and  understood  the  german. 
Huntingdon  had  one,  of  course,  and  Villiers  too ; 
"  though  how  in  the  deuce  he  manages  to  get  in  every- 
where, is  more  than  I  can  understand,"  said  Hunting- 
don to  a  contemptuous  classmate. 

"  He  does  have  a  knack  of  turning  up  when  you 
least  expect  him,"  replied  the  latter.  "Why,  would 
you  believe  it?  I  saw  the  list,  and  his  name  was  the 
very  first  of  our  men.  Who  in  the  deuce  is  he,  and 
where  does  he  come  from?  I  alv/ays  supposed  that  he 
was  a  scrub,  and  was  going  through  on  hard  work  and 


CAMBRIDGE  SOCIEXy. 


307 


cliarity ;  but  it  turns  out  that  lie  is  richer  than  old 
Isaac  of  York;  and  I  have  heard,  for  a  fact,  that  hf^ 
gives  the  doctor  eighteen  hundred  a  year  for  the  benefit 
of  any  poor  devils  who  need  it,  and  screws  hin^self 
down  to  twelve  hundred." 

Now,  that  last  idea  is  all  gammon,"  returned  Hunt- 
ingdon, shortly.  "  It's  my  notion  7ie  started  the  story 
for  effect;  for  I  believe  he's  a  scheming,  ambitious, 
dangerous  fellow.  If  he  lives  close,  it  is  because  he  is 
obliged  to." 

"  Well,  for  one,  I  don't  know  him,  and  don't  want 
to.  Society  is  getting  in  a  beastly  mixed  condition 
here,  Huntingdon ; "  and  Hnntingdon  confessed  that  it 
was. 

Now  came  our  friends'  first  introduction  to  Cambridge 
society.  Cambridge  society  !  how  can  it  be  described  ? 
Cambridge  society  !  That  immaculate  company,  that 
conglomeration  of  j'outh  and  age,  of  frisky  students, 
grave  professors  and  their  families,  and  the  scanty 
sprinkling  of  townspeople.  Cambridge  society !  wdiere 
girlhood  is  unknown,  and  where  ladies  never  grow 
passee ;  where,  in  spite  of  the  thousand  young  men, 
an  engagement  is  a  rarity,  and  marriage  an  event  almost 
unknown ;  where  the  girls  cloy  of  young  men  before 
they  are  out  of  their  teens,  and  manifest  a  degree  of 
prudery  and  fastidiousness  that  is  alarming  ;  where  — 
but  no :  the  task  is  too  severe  for  my  humble  pen,  and 
I  leave  the  Avork  to  a  more  gifted  and  a  more  aspiring- 
chronicler.  Sam  fairly  went  the  rounds  ;  for  he  was 
enabled  in  this  way  to  pass  several  hours  of  an  evening 
in  the  companionship  of  her  he  loved  best. 

Kate  came  to  visit  Rose  as  has  been  recorded,  imme- 


808 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


diately  after  tlie  Thanksgiving  j-ecess,  and  lemained 
something  more  than  two  months.  This  Avas  also 
her  first  introduction  to  the  fashionable  world ;  and 
it  soon  became  apparent  that  her  head  was  in  a  fair 
way  of  being  turned  by  the  gayety,  flattery,  and  fasci 
nation  of  this  new  life.  The  Thornes  gave  a  splendid 
german,  and  brought  her  out  in  magnificent  style. 
Everybody  was  charmed  with  her ;  and  she  proved  an 
immense  success,  from  the  very  first.  Huntingdon,  who 
at  once  devoted  liimself  to  her,  was  the  envy  of  half  the 
geiitlemen  of  the  set.  AJl  that  were  fortunate  enough 
to  make  her  acquaintance  we.'e  assiduous  in  their  atten- 
tions ;  and  new  admirers  presented  themselves  on  every 
occasion.  No  lady  was  ever  more  sought  after  than 
was  Kate  Went  worth ;  and  none  ever  drank  deeper  of 
pleasure  than  she. 

There  was,  at  this  time,  a  law-student  who  was  "  the 
rage  "  among  the  Cambridge  belles.  All  the  way  from 
Russia,  and  St.  Petersburg  too,  he  had  come  to  Har- 
vard, and  to  the  Law  School.  "  Not  to  study  law  yvith. 
the  expectation  of  ever  practising  it,"  he  said  a  score 
of  times,  as  if  an  apology  weie  necessary  for  his  gracing 
the  Law  School  with  his  presence.  "  Of  course  I  don't 
intend  to  do  that ;  but  my  father,  you  know,  is  the 
personal  friend  of  Gen.  King  (then  United  States  Min- 
ister to  Russia)  ;  he  said  that  if  I  would  post  myself  up 
a  little  in  constitutional  and  international  law,  he  w^ould 
give  me  any  position  connected  with  his  embassy  I 
wanted  ;  and  my  father  (he  pronounced  the  words  with 
an  indescribable  dravv^l),  who  thinks  that  every  word 
that  Gen.  King  says  is  gospel,  sent  me  here  to  study 
constitutional  and  international  law ;  after  which,  I  am 


CAMBRIDGE  SOCIETY. 


309 


going  to  have  a  high  position  in  the  United  Stntps^  Em- 
bassy at  St.  Petersburg." 

This  young  man  (who  was  almost  a  Russian,  for  his 
father  carried  on  an  extensive  business  in  petroleum  in 
that  country's  capital)  rejoiced  in  the  aristocratic  name 
of  Cartier.  Carter  it  had  been  once.  He  came  with 
pockets  plethoric  with  money,  and  witli  letters  of  intro- 
duction which  insured  him  a  most  flattering  reception  ; 
and  to  say  that  he  create  1  a  sensation  in  Cambridge 
society,  would  hardly  do  justice  to  the  furore  that  was 
consequent  upon  his  arrival.  He  was  gifted  by  nature 
with  a  fine  figure  ;  ambrosial  youth  shone  in  his  face ; 
his  locks  were  thick  and  curling,  and  his  whiskers  of 
the  most  distinguished  cut  •  his  clothing  was  elegant  in 
the  extreme  ;  his  manner  was  a  happy  mixture  of  gal- 
lantry and  effrontery.  He  might  have  been  a  grand 
duke :  he  was  a  very  stupid  and  a  very  dissipated  young 
man  with  a  very  rich  father.  But  this  first  winter  he 
was  an  immense  success  in  society.  He  at  once  singled 
out  Kate  Wentworth  as  the  lady  most  worthy  of  his 
devoirs;  and  soon  found  his  way  to  Mrs.  Thome's 
house,  where  he  afforded  the  young  ladies,  who  imme- 
diately saw  through  his  pretensions,  and  sounded  his 
capacitj^,  a  vast  deal  of  entertainment;  for  he  could 
gossip  by  the  hour  of  the  gay  life  at  St.  Petersburg 
and  at  Paris,  where  his  mother  lived  in  great  style  at  the 
Grand  Hotel. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  circumstance  that  incited  Hunt- 
ingdon to  enact  the  role  of  a  most  devoted  lover,  and  to 
try  to  secure  the  prize  before  some  one  else  should  chaim 
it.  At  any  rate,  he  was  certainly  making  great  progress, 
as  appeared,  in  Kate's  favor.    If  he  was  not  prospering 


310 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


wholly  in  these  days  ha  his  college  relations  and  stand- 
ing; if  the  work  of  the  year  too  long  neglected  began 
to  entangle  him,  and  his  once  brilliant  recitations  were 
now  for  the  most  part,  lamentable  failures,  so  that  the 
kind-hearted  Doctor,  who  had  the  well-being  of  every 
student  at  heart,  was  constrained  to  remonstrate  with 
him  over  the  change  ;  if  the  class  at  large  regarded  him 
less  and  less  as  a  leader,  and  ceased  to  believe  that  he 
was  infallible,  and  if  his  word  was  no  longer  law  among 
them ;  if  many  had  grown  tired  of  his  rule,  and  were 
plotting  against  him  ;  if  his  enemies  no  Longer  hesitated 
to  assail  him  both  openly  and  in  secret :  in  short,  if  he 
was  that  pitiable  individual,  the  most  popular  man  in 
the  class  gradually  but  surely  losing  his  influence,  and 
sinking  into  insignificance,  —  this  term,  of  all  others, 
was  the  brightest  in  his  social  life.  lie  was  received 
everywhere ;  and,  wherever  he  went,  he  was  without  a 
superior  in  elegance,  polish  of  manners,  and  powers  of 
entertaining  and  fascinating.  Above  all,  he  felt  that 
he  was  Kate  Wentworth's  most  favored  admirer.  Here 
were  a  score  of  the  first-society  men  wild  after  her, 
watching  their  opportunity  to  be  her  partner  in  the 
german,  to  escort  her  to  the  opera,  to  hold  her  fan  or 
bouquet ;  and  he  might  have  her  all  to  himself  for  the 
asking,  as  he  believed. 

He  was  almost  content  to  let  the  headship  of  the 
class  go  without  a  struggle.  "  After  all,  what  does  this 
popularity  among  a  hundred  overgrown  boys  amount 
to  ?  "  he  said,  reasoning  xnth.  himself.  "  There  is  not 
a  man  among  them  all  that  begins  to  be  my  equal ;  and 
they  all  knov/  it.  What  profit  is  it  going  to  be  to  me 
to  lounge  about  here  two  years  and  a  half  longer,  grind- 


CAMBEIDGE  SOCIETY.  ^ 


311 


ing  at  matliematics,  dead  languages,  logic,  and  meta 
pliysics?  I  don't  need  to  know  these  things;  and  I 
sha'n't  know  them,  even  if  I  remain.  I  have  half  a 
mind  to  carry  off  this  girl  who  moves  me  so  strangely ; 
she  would  be  glorious  in  her  love  while  it  lasted.  We 
could  go  abroad  where  people  understand  the  art;  of 
living  as  they  do  not  here ;  "  and  he  was  strongly 
tempted  to  bind  himself. 

Rumor,  in  the  person  of  Mr.  Cartier,  had  already 
spread  the  report  of  an  engagement.  Some  thoughtless 
friend  had  rallied  that  gentleman  on  his  devotion  to 
"  la  helle  Wentworth,"  as  he  was  pleased  to  call  her, 
and  congratulated  him  on  the  success  that  was  likely  to 
ensue. 

"  I  ?  "  quoth  he,  with  a  very  foreign  shrug  of  the 
shoulders.  "Ah  no,  I  am  not  so  fortunate.  That  Soph- 
omore has  it  all  his  own  way  there.  You  know  I  have 
hardly  had  a  fair  chance  (for  the  young  sprig  of  the 
law  really  believed  he  coidd  make  any  woman  desper- 
ately in  love  with  him,  if  he  only  chose).  "  He  is  an  old 
friend  of  the  family  ;  they  were  pla}unates  together 
when  children,  and  have  been  betrothed  to  each  other 
three  years; "  and  in  this  form  the  story  went  the  round. 

It  almost  seemed  as  though  Huntingdon  might  have 
had  his  desire.  Kate,  be  it  remembered,  was  verj'  young 
and  very  inexperienced ;  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  she  was  bewildered  by  all  this  homage.  How 
could  she  help  adoring  the  opera,  —  she  who  was  so 
enthusiastically  fond  of  music  ?  The  bombast,  sickly 
sentiment,  and  false  passion,  that  abound  so  plentifulh*, 
had  the  ring  of  true  gold  in  her  inexperienced  ears ; 
and  at  her  side  was  a  man  who  could  appreciate  all, 


312 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


and  even  point  out  new  beauties ;  enhance  lier  pleas 
ure  bj  accurate  criticisms  well-timed  comments,  and 
comparisons  with  and  reminiscences  of  Old-World  art- 
ists of  renown.  Surely  a  man  who  could  love  music 
as  he  did  must  have  a  good  heart.  She  must  have 
misjudged  him  in  her  old-time  distrust. 

How  could  she  help  loving  the  german,  when  for  the 
first  time  she  enjoyed  dancing  to  her  heart's  content, 
—  she,  who  was  so  full  of  buoyant,  healthful  spirits  ? 
How  could  she  help  loving  fine  dresses  and  the  deli- 
cious waltz  music  ?  How  could  she  refuse  the  homage 
of  all  these  elegant  gentlemen  who  vied  with  one 
another  in  showering  attentions  upon  her?  And  how 
could  she  help  being  pleased  and  flattered  at  having 
this  fine-looking  and  fascinating  young  fellow  by  her 
side,  with  whose  attentions  any  lady  of  all  that  fastidi- 
ous circle  would  have  felt  herself  honored  ?  So  she 
danced  and  flirted,  and  Avent  to  operas  and  concerts, 
balls,  germans,  and  assemblies,  and  was  content  to  have 
Mr.  Huntingdon  for  an  escort ;  apparently  more  than 
content.  She  would  hardly  have  been  recognized  as 
the  girl  who  three  months  ago  had  been  so  simple  in 
her  pleasure. 


XIX. 


DO"WN  IN  DITTSITY. 

ThiTS  the  year  glided  on  Tritli  its  gayeties,  its  hum- 
drum routine,  and  its  tragedies,  for  each  class  is  a  little 
TTorld  within  itself;  and  I  should  give  a  very  ^Tong 
impression  if  I  led  any  one  to  believe  that  the  siun  of 
college  life  consisted  of  successful  study  or  easy  afflu- 
ence, or  falling  in  love  with  pretty  girls,  and  brilliant 
social  pleasure.  Many  men  there  were,  of  excellent 
families,  who  forgot  what  a  social  gathering  was  like 
before  the  four-years*  course  of  study  was  finished  ;  for  it 
was  onlv  to  a  verv  few  faA'ored  ones  that  tlie  Cambrido^e 
hospitalities  were  extended. 

Though  the  number  of  poor  students  is  perhaps  pro- 
portionally smaller  at  Harvard  than  at  any  other  college 
in  the  land,  there  are  many  brave  hearts  (and  this  is 
especially  true  of  the  professional  students)  who  toil  on 
sometimes  without  the  common  creatitre-comforts.  and 
struggle  manfully  along  the  rough  path  to  golden  knowl- 
edge, sacrificing  enjoyment  and  leistu^e,  and  sometimes 
health,  and  even  life  itself. 

Sam,  coming  out  of  the  gymnasium  one  stormy  after- 
noon in  January  near  the  close  of  the  year,  espied  Vil- 
liers  ploughing  his  way  tlu^ough  the  snow-drifts  in  the 
direction  of  the  Delta. 

313 


314 


STUDENT-LrFB  AT  HAKVAED. 


"  Where  are  you  going  clown  there  in  this  storm  ? " 
he  cried,  and  hurried  up  to  him. 

"  Down  to  Divinity,  to  see  Cole,"  shouted  Villiers : 
"  come,  won't  you  ?  "  And  now  there  are  two  figures 
breasting  the  storm  and  the  flying  snow.  They  floim- 
dered  across  the  Delta,  and  down  to  Divinity. 

"  Where  do  you  room  ?  "  This  question  was  occasion- 
ally heard. 

Oh,  down  in  Divinity."  The  reply  was  accompanied 
with  a  flush  perhaps. 

"  Down  in  Divinity  ?  what,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is 
v/onderful,  makes  you  go  down  there  among  all  those 
scrubs  ?  "  was  almost  sure  to  be  the  rejoinder ;  for  it  was 
not  a  very  popular  place.  Many  a  good-hearted  fellow 
has  graduated  without  having  seen  the  inside  of  the 
old  hall ;  and  yet  one  who  has  not  lived  there  himself, 
or  had  a  friend  of  whom  he  has  seen  much  who  has 
roomed  there,  has  missed  by  no  means  the  least  interest- 
ing phase  of  student-life. 

Divinity  Hall  is  the  seat  of  the  Theological  School, 
as  might  be  inferred  from  its  name.  It  comprises 
within  its  four  walls,  library,  chapel,  recitation  and 
lecture  rooms,  and  apartments  for  the  students.  It 
stands  apart  by  itself,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  more  north- 
east from  the  college-grounds.  The  location  is  a  little 
gloomy  perhaps,  and  an  air  of  undisturbed  quiet  and 
perfect  peace  usually  pervades  its  halls.  The  building 
was  designed  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the  "divinity 
pills,"  as  their  irreverent  fellow-students  call  them  ;  but 
tlie  school  had  not  been  so  full  but  that  there  had  been 
rooms  to  spare  for  some  scientific  and  law  students,  and 
such  undergraduates  as  were  unfortunate  enough  to  find 
it  convenient  to  go  there. 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


815 


Notwithstanding  the  prejudice  against  going  "  down 
to  Divinity,"  it  was  by  no  means  the  worst  place  in 
Cambridge.  The  rooms  were  very  comfortable  ;  just 
large  enough  for  one,  with  cosey  grates  and  gas,  and  an 
alcove  for  the  bed,  and  a  large  closet.  And  they  had 
one  especial  virtue  in  the  eyes  of  their  often  needy 
occupants :  they  were  cheap,  at  least  for  Cambridge. 

"  Cole  ?  "  said  Sam,  half  aloud,  as  they  stamped  the 
snow  from  their  boots,  on  the  threshold  of  the  hall ,  "I 
don't  think  I  know  him  by  sight,  even.  Ah,  I  remem- 
ber now :  he's  the  man  that  Adams  said  would  give 
you  a  rub  for  the  headship." 

It's  a  disgrace  to  the  college,  and  the  class,  that 
such  a  man  as  Cole  should  be  here  six  months,  and  not 
a  dozen  men  know  any  thing  about  him,"  said  Villiers  ; 
and  he  knocked  at  the  door,  —  the  two  having  ascended 
two  pairs  of  stairs,  and  proceeded  some  distance  along 
a  dusky  entry  to  his  room. 

Cole  left  his  books,  as  Sam  could  see,  to  welcome  his 
classmates  to  his  room ;  and  as  he  shook  hands  with  his 
host,  whom  he  now  remembered  to  have  seen  before,  and 
told  him  he  was  happy  to  make  his  acquaintance,  liis 
eye  wandered  about  the  room  and  its  furnishings,  and 
a  feeling  of  vronder  came  over  him.  Then  he  locked 
once  more  at  Cole,  who  was  talking  to  Villiers.  A  tall, 
gentlemanly  fellow  was  Cole,  with  dark  liair,  and  a  pale 
face ;  the  heau  ideal  of  a  student ;  just  such  a  man  as 
one  reads  about  in  books,  as  taking  valedictories  in 
seminaries  and  theological  schools.  It  was  evident  that 
he  was  a  cultivated  gentleman,  before  he  had  spoken  a 
dozen  won  Is.  His  language  was  the  purest  and  sim- 
plest. 


316 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


But  tlie  room!  so  difPerent  from  any  thing  that  Sam 
had  seen  at  Cambridge  tlius  far,  where  comfort,  if  not 
luxury,  Vv'as  the  rule,  —  bare  walls  and  a  bare  floor ;  a 
plain,  old-fashioned  table,  which  belonged  to  the  room, 
and  came  with  it ;  two  or  three  deal  chairs ;  and  a  small 
cylinder  stove,  behind  which  were  a  kettle  and  a  sauce- 
pan. In  the  alcove  were  a  rickety-looking  bed  and  a 
quaint  sort  of  bureau  (some  more  of  the  college  prop- 
erty). There  was  nothing  cheerful  or  comfortable 
about,  the  apcirtment :  it  was  as  uninviting  as  a  room 
could  be.  Moreover,  there  was  a  peculiar  odor,  as 
though  something  had  been  cooked  there  two  or  three 
hours  ago,  and  the  room  had  not  been  aired  since. 
"  Does  ho  live  this  way  because  he  likes  it,  or  because 
he  is  obliged  to  ? "  was  a  query  that  entered  Sam's 
mind.  "  I  should  have  the  blues,  and  die  of  disgust 
here,  in  a  month,"  was  his  second  thought. 

Meantime  Villiers  had  been  carrying  on  a  conversa- 
tion with  Cole,  and  discussing  some  matters  that  quite 
surprised  Sam.  The  two  seemed  to  be  very  well  ac- 
quainted, as  they  were ;  for  Villiers  had  sought  him  out 
early  in  the  year,  and  had  been  a  friend  to  him,  —  how 
valuable  a  one,  no  one  but  the  stranger  himself  knew. 
They  were  talking  about  the  hall  and  its  occupants. 

"  Oh,  I  like  it,"  said  Cole,  brightly.  "  I  don't  see 
what  more  one  could  ask  for.  We  have  every  conven- 
ience here.  The  rooms  are  snug  and  warm,  and  well 
taken  care  of ;  and  I  do  not  mind  a  five-minutes'  walk 
to  prayers  and  recitation.  Our  letters  are  brought  to 
the  reading-room  down  stairs,  which  is  nice ;  while  the 
reading-room  itself  is  a  great  attraction  to  me.  Wc 
have  a  sufficient  number  of  the  daily  and  weekl}? 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


317 


papers,  and  all  tlie  religious  papers  and  magazines,  and 
no  trouble  of  going  out  of  the  house  for  the  news. 
On  the  opposite  side  from  the  reading-room  is  the  library 
of  the  Theological  School ;  and  there  is  a  yariety  of 
curious  and  instructive  and  entertaining  books.  It  is 
a  delightful  place  to  go  into  and  mouse  around  when 
you  are  tired  of  study,  and  have  nothing  in  particular 
to  do.  Above  it  is  the  chapel,  where  they  have  prayers 
every  evening  at  five." 

"  That  is  rather  an  improvement  on  turning  out 
these  cold  mornings  before  breakfast,"  suggested  Sam. 

"  Yes,  so  I  think.  I  often  drop  in  when  I  have 
time  ;  and  it  seems  so  much  more  like  devotion  than 
the  farce  at  the  college  chapel  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes :  it  is  hard  to  expect  very  much  devotion  or 
piety  from  five  hundred  restless  young  fellows  in  the 
morning,  before  they  are  half  awake,  and  cold  and 
hungry  besides,"  said  Villiers. 

This  evening  service  here  is  quite  different,"  con- 
tinued the  host.  The  music  of  the  choir  and  or^-an 
rolls  up  through  the  silent  halls,  and  sounds  very 
beautiful.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  have  the  service 
done  away.  The  professor  is  so  kind  as  to  allow  me 
to  practise  on  the  chapel  organ  when  I  v/isli ;  and  it 
is  H  greater  pleasure  than  you  can  imagine,  perhaps. 
It  is  old  and  small,  but  some  of  the  pipes  are  very 
sv/eet.  I  visit  the  chapel  for  this  purpose  frequently. 
Friday  evenings  there  are  religious  cervices  in  the 
chapel.  A  good  many  come,  friends  of  the  students, 
with  a  generous  sprinkling  of  ladies  in  pleasant  even- 
ings. TLe  exercises  arc  conducted  by  the  Theological 
students  themselves,  and  are  for  the  most  part  very 


318 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVABD. 


interesting,  for  tliere  are  many  very  bright  men  in  tlie 
school." 

"  I  am  sure  you  make  out  quite  a  list  of  attractions," 
said  Sam,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  but  the  greatest  remains  to  be  told.  I  suppose 
you  know  that  most  of  us  down  here  are  poor  enough ; 
at  least  we  nearly  all  find  it  desirable  to  economize.  I 
tliink  two-thirds  of  all  the  men  in  the  building  either 
keep  themselves  entirely,  or  go  out  to  dinner  and  pro- 
vide their  own  breakfast  and  tea  *'  — 

"  I  should  think  the  '  marm  '  would  want  double  price 
for  her  dinners  under  such  circumstances,"  interrupted 
Sam,  with  a  langh. 

Very  likely ;  but  they  mostly  keep  themselves  en- 
tirely, and  in  this  we  are  admirably  accommodated. 
We  leave  our  basket  and  pail  just  outside  our  door  over 
night,  and  in  the  morning  take  in  our  milk  and  our 
fresh  loaf;  and  some  of  the  men  down  here  live  on 
bread  and  milk  for  the  most  part,  or  make  it  answer  for 
breakfast  and  tea.  It  is  very  convenient ;  but  unfortu- 
nately I  do  not  like  milk  myself,  and  so  am  put  to  the 
trouble  of  cooking  a  meal  much  oftener  than  I  should 
otherwise  be.  I  keep  myself  altogether,  and  lind  it 
very  much  cheaper  than  I  could  possibly  board.  You 
will  hardly  think  it  possible,"  and  he  smiled  somewhat 
sadly,  but  I  have  lived  here  on  eighty  cents  a  week, 
and  for  quite  a  little  time;  and  prices  are  very  high 
now,  you  know.  But  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  health- 
ful to  live  as  I  did  then,"  he  added,  gravely.  "  I  alwaj^s 
have  meat  now  at  least  once  a  day." 

"  Eighty  cents  a  week !  "  exclaimed  Sam,  in  astonish- 
ment.   "  Why,  our  '  marm '  charges  eight  dollars  for 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


319 


meals ;  and  many  of  the  fellows  go  home  Saturday,  and 
stay  oyer  Sunday;  and  she  grumbles  at  that,  and  says 
that  she  is  losmg  money,  eyery  thing  is  so  yery  dear.'' 

"  Oh,  that  yas  only  for  two  or  three  weeks  when  I 
was  excessiyely  hard  up.  It  costs  me  about  a  dollar 
and  sixty  cents  a  week  for  what  I  eat  now,  and  I  belieye 
I  liye  as  well  as  a  man  needs  to  liye.  For  instance,  I 
usually  haye  some  tea  and  an  egg.  with  toast  or  bread 
and  butter,  for  breakfast.  For  dinner,  a  potato  bakes 
nicely  in  the  ashes  under  the  grate ;  and  I  buy  a  bit  of 
corned  beef  and  boil  it,  or  a  roasting-piece  -and  take  it 
oyer  to  the  bake-house ;  and  once  a  week  I  haye  them 
bake  me  a  pot  of  beans.  Then  I  can  broil  a  steak  as 
nicely  as  need  be  :  and  sometimes  I  indulge  in  some 
apple-sauce.  I  haye  eyery  thing  I  want  to  eat.  Some 
of  the  men  club  together,  and  haye  jolly  times  with 
their  cooldng  and  housekeeping,  and  it  is  not  nearly  as 
much  of  a  hardship  as  you  would  imagine.'' 

"  I  don't  see  but  that,  if  you  had  yotu-  wiyes  down 
here,  you  would  haye  eyery  thing  that  goes  to  make  up 
the  sum  of  domestic  happiness ;  but  I  suppose  they 
would  not  allow  that?''  said  Sam. 

"I  am  not  so  sure,""  replied  Cole,  laughing.  1  think 
there  was  a  minister  who  had  his  wife  and  family  here 
last  term,  and  they  carried  on  housekeeping  in  two 
rooms.  AVhat  I  find  it  hardest  to  accustom  myself  to 
is  the  solitary  life  one  leads  :  it  was  almost  imendurable 
at  first,  and  this  sitting  down  to  a  table  alone  and  gob- 
bling sometliing,  I  don't  think  I  altogether  enjoy  eyen 
now." 

'•How  do  you  find  the  men  of  the  school?"  asked 
Villiers. 


320 


STUDENT-LITE  AT  HAKVAED. 


"  Oil,  I  like  tliem  so  far  as  I  am  acquainted.  I  think 
there  are  many  fine  fellows  here,  —  men  of  ideas.  If 
they  were  not  men  of  ideas,  I  suppose  they  would  not 
be  here ;  but  of  course  there  is  every  grade  of  capacity, 
as  there  is  of  affluence  and  social  standing.  One  thing 
strikes  me  very  pleasantly :  they  seem  to  be  more 
bound  together  by  a  common  bond  than  the  undergrad- 
uates ;  they  seem  more  polite  to  one  another,  and  on 
better  terms.  There  is  very  little  of  the  exclusiveness 
which  I  cannot  help  noticing  in  the  college." 

"  I  don't  think  our  fellows  are  exclusive,  do  you,  Vil- 
liers?"  said  Sam,  quickly. 

No,  they  were  not  so  far  as  Sam  was  concerned. 

"  I  don't  know  that  they  mean  to  be,  but  they  cer- 
tainly are,"  replied  Villiers,  to  Sam's  great  surprise. 

"  Some  of  the  law-students  whom  we  have  here," 
continued  Cole,  quickly  and  pleasantly,  "  are  the  rough- 
est specimens  of  the  student  genus  in  the  hall ;  and  I 
think  there  is  a  little  hard  feeling  between  them  and 
the  theological  men, — distrust  on  one  part  and  con- 
tempt on  the  other  perhaps.  I  was  not  a  little  .amused 
at  an  incident  that  happened  in  the  reading-room  a  few 
days  ago.  I  was  glancing  over  a  file  of  papers,  and  was 
hidden  from  view  in  one  of  the  recesses,  when  two  of 
the  '  Divinity  Pills,'  as  they  call  them,  came  in.  After 
looking  around  for  an  instant,  said  one  of  them  in  an 
irritable  tone  of  voice,  '  Where  do  you  suppose  "  The 
Christian  Examiner"  can  have  gone  to?  I  haven't  seen 
it  for  a  week.'  'Neither  have  I,' returned  the  other; 
'and  I  can't  think  what  can  have  become  of  it  unless 
some  of  those  Freshmen  have  carried  it  off  out  of  pure 
mischief.    I  don't  suppose  they  would  want  it  to  read, 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


821 


yon  know.'  '  IMore  likely  some  of  those  Yv^estern  la-w- 
stuclents  Lave  taken  it  to  kindle  their  fire  with,'  replied 
the  first  speaker.  '  Do  yon  know,  I  have  no  donbt  they, 
wonld  open  letters  if  they  thonght  there  was  any 
money  in  them ;  I  saw  one  of  them  fumbling  them 
over  the  other  day,  and  he  looked  sheepish  enongli 
as  I  came  in.  I  don't  think  it  is  safe  to  have  our  letters 
left  here  myself ; '  and  they  were  going  off  cross  enough, 
when  in  came  the  librarian  with  the  missing  file.  The 
reading-room  is  not  warmed;  and  he  had  taken  the 
papers  to  his  room  to  read  in  comfort  by  his  fire,  and 
had  neglected  to  bring  them  back." 

Sam  thought  that  was  a  pretty  good  story,  and  one 
that  would  bear  repeating  ;  and  the  three  laughed 
heartily  at  the  anecdote. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Villicrs,  "  there  is  more  or  less 
feeling  of  that  natiu'e  between  the  different  depart- 
ments of  students,  though  it  is  unaccountable  to  me. 
The  undergraduates  seem  to  consider  the  professionals, 
one  and  all,  as  so  many  scrubs,  altogether  unworthy  of 
their  notice  ;  and  the  professional  men,  particularly  the 
graduates,  look  down  upon  the  college  boys  as  a  set  of 
conceited  young  dogs,  who  ought  to  be  taken  in  hand 
and  have  some  of  the  nonsense  rubbed  oat  of  them." 

They  had  been  sitting  in  the  dusky  glow  which  the 
coals  shed  over  the  room,  but  now  the  host  struck  a 
ngnt.  "  I  save  a  large  bill  by  using  kerosene,"  he 
explained  to  Sam ;  "  and  I.  find  I  like  it  better  than  gas, 
the  light  is  softer  for  the  eyes  and  steadier;  and  now, 
gentlemen,  I  hope  you- will  do  me  the  favor  of  taking 
tea  with  me.  It  will  be  a  real  pleasure  to  me  to  have 
your  company,  and  I  shall  not  be  in  the  least  incom- 


822  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

moclecl.  I  can  give  you  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  slice  of 
toast,  and  a  bit  of  beef  perhaps,  if  it  is  not  all  gone." 

They  accepted  his  invitation  readily,  and  Cole  made 
his  preparations  for  the  meal.  The  table  was  cleared  of 
books,  and  a  newspaper  spread  thereon  in  lieu  of  a 
tablecloth.  The  kettle  was  soon  singing  merrily  on  the 
stove,  the  plates  were  laid,  and  some  butter  and  a  loaf  of 
bread  produced.  The  beef  proved  not  to  have  been 
entirely  devoured ;  and  by  the  time  the  fragrant  tea  had 
steeped,  some  slices  of  bread  were  nicely  toasted,  and 
all  was  ready.  "  You  will  have  to  use  your  own  knives 
for  the  butter,  and  your  spoons  for  the  sugar,"  said 
Cole,  presenting  this  latter  article  in  a  paper  bag ;  "  and 
I  am  sorry  I  have  not  napkins  for  you.  If  I  had  ex- 
pected this  pleasure,  I  would  have  prepared  for  it:  it  is 
not  often  that  I  have  company." 

They  both  declared  that  apologies  were  quite  unneces- 
sary, and  Sam  said  truly  that  he  had  not  for  a  long 
time  enjoyed  a  meal  more.  "  Though  I  know  I  should 
be  lonesome,"  he  said,  thoughtfully. 

"  The  change  from  my  life  of  last  year  to  this  is 
very  great,"  said  Cole,  half  in  answer.  "  I  had  been 
teaching  and  boarding  around,  and  met  a  good  many 
people ;  but  I  have  little  time  for  repining.  I  find  the 
work  here  pretty  difficult,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Sam,  leaning  back  good-naturedly. 
"  I  think  it  is  all  a  most  confounded  bore." 

"  But  you  study  very  faithfully,  I  believe,"  said  Cole, 
with  a  smile. 

Yes ;  I  have  concluded  that  it  is  the  easiest  way 
out  of  a  bad  fix,  and  work  on  this  principle  "  (which 
was  not  quite  true,  though  just  at  that  moment  Sara 


DOWN  IX  DIVLNITY. 


323 


doubtless  thought  it  was);  "not  because  I  like  to.  I 
have  made  a  solemn  tow  that  if  I  survive  the  annuals, 
I  will  never  look  within  the  covers  of  a  mathematical 
work  again." 

"  Why,  now,  I  like  mathematics  above  all  things," 
exclaimed  Cole,  with  honest  surprise.  '-I  think  it  a 
beautiful  science :  it  is  all  explained  and  proved  so 
fully  and  exactly  as  you  go  on,  and  the  way  is  made 
so  smooth  and  serene,  one  need  never  make  any  mis- 
takes. I  do  not  see  how  any  one  can  help  being 
charmed." 

Sam  laughed  long  and  loud  at  the  idea  of  any  one's 
being  charmed  with  mathematics. 

"  What  do  you  like  best  ?  "  inquired  Cole,  a  little 
confused,  while  Yilliers  remained  a  silent  and  amused 
auditor. 

If  I  can  truly  say  I  like  any  thing,  I  suppose  that 
I  like  Greek  best,"  replied  Sam,  after  a  moment's 
thought ;  "  but  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  do  much  work 
of  any  sort  unless  I  were  obliged  to,  as  it  were  ;  and  I 
have  an  idea  that  that  is  the  way  it  is  with  pretty  much 
everybody,"  he  continued,  simply.  "  We  come  here  for 
the  most  part  because  Ave  do,  and  without  even  asking 
the  reason  ^vhy,  unless  perhaps  a  man  has  an  ambition 
to  pull,  like  Tom,  or  to  learn  to  smoke,  like  Adams.  I 
think  study  is  the  last  thing  we  come  for.  Of  course, 
the  work  is  all  an  imposition,  and  the  instructors  are 
our  natural  enemies.  That  is  the  way  most  of  the 
fellows  feel,  I  know.  Once  here,  we  have  certain  work 
to  do ;  and  for  one  reason  or  another,  it  may  be  because 
we  find  it  to  be  the  easiest  way  on  the  whole  to  keep 
up  with  the  work,  or  it  may  be  pride  or  ambition,  or  a 


324 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVABD. 


desire  to  please  a  friend  by  a  high  place  on  the  rank 
list,  or  a  way  a  fellow  has  from  principle  of  doing 
things  pretty  well,  that  keeps  you  at  it  regularl}^  and 
industriously.  Of  course,  there  is  a  choice  among 
evils :  once  obliged  to  work,  there  are  certain  kinds  we 
like  best,  and  there  is  a  left-handed  sort  of  pleasure  in 
it  sometunes,  when  one  is  thoroughly  warmed  up ;  but 
I  never  imagined  there  was  a  fellow  who  really  liked  to 
stud}^,  who  was  sorry,  for  instance,  when  his  lesson  is 
learned,  because  it  was  not  longer,  as  Tom  is  when  he 
comes  in  from  a  pull,  and  who  would  keep  on  grind- 
ing just  the  same  if  you  took  away  all  the  surroundings 
and  incentives." 

"Well,  I  believe  I  must  say  that  I  know  I  love 
study,"  said  Cole,  earnestly.  "  I  take  the  purest  and 
deepest  pleasure  in  it,  and  I  thought  every  one  else 
did,  too ;  and  I  still  think  you  must  be  wrong.  I  enjoy 
to  the  utmost  every  hour  I  can  spend  in  this  way ;  and 
I  have  worked  hard,  and  given  up  a  good  deal,  for  the 
sake  of  it.  I  might  own  a  good  farm  in  York  State, 
and  be  a  family  man,  and  be  comfortably  well  off; 
for  I  was  not  brought  up  to  live  in  this  way,"  casting 
his  eyes  about  the  dingy  room.  "  I  have  been  four 
3^ear3,  —  ever  since  I  was  twenty-one,  working  to  the  end 
that  I  might  enjoy  the  advantages  here  ;  and  I  enjoy 
every  hour  of  my  time.  Come  and  see  me  .again  soon," 
he  added,  as  the  two  young  men  rose  to  go.  "  I  shall 
esteem  it  a  real  favor." 

"  How  does  he  expect  to  live  ?  "  asked  Sam,  as  they 
groped  their  way  down  the  dark  hall.  "  What  can  he 
do  to  earn  any  money  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  will  take  a  scholarship :  that's  tliree  htm- 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


825 


dred  a  year ;  and  he  vvill  live  on  less  money  than  that," 
was  Villiers's  reply. 

"  Sure  enough  ;  I  forgot  all  about  the  scholarships. 
That  is  not  such  a  bad  thing,  —  having  scholarships,  — 
is  it?"  and  Sam's  heart  began  to  warm  towards  the 
venerable  institution.  He  began  to  think  the  college 
was  not  such  a  "  miserable  liolc  "  as  it  was  fashiona- 
ble to  consider  it  among  a  certain  class  of  students. 

"  These  scholarships  are  splendid  things  in  the  hands 
of  such  men  as  he ;  but  it  often  happens  that  fellows 
get  them  who  do  not  need  them  any  more  than  you  or 
I,  just  because  they  stand  high." 

"  That  must  be  so,"  returned  Sam,  thoughtfully. 
"  There  was  Williamson  vvdio  had  a  scholarship  last 
year ;  and  he  bought  a  piano,  and  was  as  proud  of  it 
as  a  peacock." 

"  Yes ;  and  Young,  who  is  as  hard-working  a  fellow 
as  there  is  in  the  class,  and  who  did  not  rank  high  last 
year,  simply  because  he  was  not  half  fitted,  failed  to 
take  a  scholarship,  just  because  Williamson  took  it. 
If  Williamson  had  not  applied,  or  his  application  liad 
been  refused,  as  it  should  have  been.  Young  woukl 
have  had  the  prize,  and  wouldn't  have  been  off  teach- 
ing school  noAY,  thereby  ruining  his  chance  for  any 
successful  work  this  3'ear.  That  is  one  of  the  most 
contemptible  things  a  man  can  do,  I  think,  —  take  a 
scholarship  just  because  it  happens  to  be  within  his 
reach,  when  he  is  not  really  dependent  on  himself  for 
his  support,  and  there  are  so  many  earnest,  deserving 
men  who  are  needy,  and  who  don't  happen  to  rank 
high,  for  the  most  part  because  their  advantages  have 
been  poor." 


326 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVARD. 


"  Well,  there  is  no  cloiibt  about  Cole.  What  an 
unmitigated  dig  he  must  be  !  " 

"  Yes :  he  is  sure  of  the  first  place  in  the  class ;  but 
it  is  not  quite  right  to  call  him  a  dig.  I  dig ;  study  is 
work  with  me :  with  him,  as  he  says,  it  is  the  highest 
pleasure  he  knows.  I  doubt  if  there  is  a  man  in  the 
college  that  could  hold  out  against  Cole  on  a  four 
years'  course.  You  know  he  said  he  might  have  a 
farm  in  New  York  State.  Well,  there  is  more  to  his 
story  than  that.  His  parents  are  from  the  north  of 
Europe  somewhere,  and  belong  to  a  sect  who  make  it 
a  part  of  their  creed  to  discountenance  all  education. 
They  deem  it  wicked  as  the  Quakers  do  music ;  so, 
though  they  are  well  off,  he  has  received  nothing  but 
opposition  from  them.  When  he  was  a  boy  he  showed 
a  most  remarkable  fondness  for  study ;  but  his  father 
kept  him  at  work  on  the  farm,  and  it  was  not  till  he 
came  of  age  that  he  could  spend  his  time  as  he  chose. 
He  had  studied  alone  all  that  he  could,  and  then  he 
managed  to  go  to  school  a  little.  At  length  he  taught 
a  school  himself;  and  then  a  minister  of  the  neighbor- 
hood found  him  out,  and  put  him  on  the  track  of 
coming  here  ;  and  he,  firm  in  his  resolution,  teaching 
winters  and  working  on  a  farm  summers,  without  ever 
having  had  a  j-ear's  instruction  in  his  life,  passed  the 
Fresh.-Soph.  examination  without  conditions  last  fall: 
and  now  you  see  him,  and  see  how  he  works.  Study 
is  the  sole  thing  he  lives  for.  It  is  his  meat  and  driidi, 
his  work  and  his  relaxation.  Wliile  I  am  off  taking 
my  constitutional,  or  at  the  gymnasium,  or  loafing,  he  is 
working ;  while  you  are  at  the  opera,  or  dancing  with 
Rose  Thome,  he  is  working :  and  working,  not  as  you 


DOWN  IN  DIVINITY. 


327 


and  I  work,  because  we  have  so  much  to  do,  and  want 
it  off  our  hands,  but  because  it  is  pure  pleasure  to 
him,  —  something  that  you  and  I  have  only  a  very 
faint  idea  of.  You  were  right,  Sam,  in  what  you  said 
about  the  way  we  study.  It  is  a  means  with  us,  not 
an  end ;  and  we  regard  it  as  a  means,  —  a  duty  to  be 
performed.  How  can  any  one,  working  on  such  a  prin- 
ciple as  that,  hold  his  own  with  a  man  who  actually 
revels  in  an  opportunity  which  to  us  is  irksome  labor  ? 
whose  study  is  the  pure  love  of  truth  ?  Xo  one  can, 
of  course.  Cole  is  bound  to  lead  the  class.  He  must 
be  the  first  in  scholarship,  if  he  is  not  the  first  in  the 
rank-list ;  but  he  will  be  first  there,  too." 

"  Come  up,  and  let  us  work  out  those  equations,  and 
plot  the  curves  —  " 


XX. 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  we  move  about  wholly 
ignorant  of  an  event  which  most  nearly  concerns  us, 
while  with  every  one  else  of  those  who  immediately 
surround  us,  the  matter  is  a  subject  of  general  knowl- 
edge and  common  talk.  Thus  it  came  about  tliat  ever}^- 
body  knew  of  the  engagement  of  Huntingdon  and  Kate 
Wentworth,  except  those  most  nearly  interested,  —  the 
young  lady  herself,  her  brother,  and  Villiers. 

The  latter  gentleman  was  not  one  to  hear  gossip  of 
any  kind  unless  by  accident.  All  this  time  he  was 
pursuing  his  unvarying  routine  of  work,  digging  away 
at  "  curves  and  functions,"  Greek  roots,  and  problems 
in  chemical  ph3^sics.  The  fashionable  world  had  of  a 
sudden  monopolized  his  lad}^  had  taken  her  to  itself, 
and  placed  her  on  its  very  highest  seat;  and  a  few 
v/eeks  had  sufficed  to  transform  her  from  a  simple 
country-girl  into  a  fme  lady.  All  this  he  knew  as  of 
course,  and  it  touched  liim  to  the  quick.  He  bad 
fought  a  hard  battle  with  himself,  the  bitterest  he  had 
ever  known.  The  temptation  to  devote  himself  heart 
and  soul  to  Miss  Wentworth  had  been  almost  irresist- 
ible. He  had  paid  his  compliments  to  her,  immedi- 
ately upon  her  arrival  at  the  Thornes',  and  she  had 

S28 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION. 


329 


received  liim  with  a  flush  of  pleasure  that  gave  him 
more  delight  than  any  thing  that  had  ever  happened  to 
him.  His  sense  of  enjoyment  was  keen  and  stroiig : 
why  should  not  he  reach  forth  his  hand,  and  take  his 
share  of  the  good  things  which  were  so  readily  within 
his  grasp?  Why  should  he  not  play  his  part  in  the 
festivities  of  the  season?  He  could  certainly  do  it 
well.  Why  should  he  risk  the  loss  of  this  girl's  love  ii 
he  felt  conscious  that  she  was  the  one  woman  with 
whom  he  could  tread  the  journey  of  life  ?  Why  should 
every  one  else  have  his  chance  to  win  her  when  her 
nature  was  excited  and  her  reason  dazzled  by  the  pecu- 
liar experiences  of  this  first  taste  of  pleasure  ?  and  wh}^ 
should  he  stand  aloof?  It  was  a  Litter  struggle,  of 
which  these  fev/  words  can  give  no  conception ;  but  he 
finally  determined  that  principle  and  duty  were  more  to 
be  preferred  than  pleasure  or  success ;  and  any  other 
course  than  steadfast,  unvarying  application  to  the  work 
of  the  year,  which  was  in  truth  most  exacting  in  its 
requirements,  seemed  to  him  foreign  to  the  purpose  of 
a  coUeo'e  course.  Thus  it  had  come  about  that  ciqiit 
weeks  of  Kate's  sojourn  with  her  friend  had  jiassed 
away ;  and  vvdth  the  suigle  exception  of  that  first  call, 
these  two  had  not  met,  for  Kate  had  chanced  to  be 
away  from  home  on  the  occasion  of  his  two  subsequent 
calls. 

He  had,  however,  set  apart  a  particular  evening, 
almost  the  last  before  she  was  to  return  home,  as  a  time 
when  it  v/ould  be  entirely  becoming  for  him  to  call  at 
the  Thornes'  once  more  ;  and  this  time  he  thouglit  ho 
would  be  early,  for  his  heart  fairly  hungered  for  a  sight 
of  Kate,  and  besides,  he  wanted  to  give  her  the  benefit 


330 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


of  some  tlioughts  and  ideas  whicli  he  felt  slie  ought  to 
hear. 

He  was  making  his  toilet  with  all  care,  his  thoughts 
wandering  away  before  him  to  Mrs.  Thome's  drawing- 
room,  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Haskill 
entered.  There  was  a  dejected  air  about  the  usually 
complacent  and  dignified  Senior  that  struck  Villiers 
at  once.  Instead  of  his  usual  volubility,  he  merely 
nodded,  and  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  sat  smoking  in 
silence,  without  even  remembering  to  blow  a  ring  across 
to  the  fire.    Villiers  was  polishing  his  boots. 

"  It's  an  everlasting  shame  ! "  quoth  the  Senior,  lugu- 
briously, after  a  short  silence. 

Villiers  merely  looked  up  with  an  inquiring  smile. 

'•If  it  was  anybody  else,"  continued  the  Senior, 
"  even  that  booby  of  a  Cartier,  it  would  be  bad  enough, 
but  not  so  bad  as  Huntingdon.  If  I  was  a  woman,  and 
Huntingdon  was  the  last  and  only  man  left  on  earth,  I 
would  prefer  to  be  the  rose  that  '  lives,  blooms,  and  dies 
in  single  blessedness,'  as  sweet  William  has  it,  rather 
than  take  him ;  that's  just  the  good  opinion  I  have  of 
Mr.  Huntington,  in  spite  of  his  good  clothes  and  his 
swell  airs ! " 

At  this  Villiers  suspended  his  work  with  a  startled 
look.    "  What  is  all  this  about?  "  he  asked. 

"Why,  don't  you  know?"  exclaimed  Hasldll.  "I 
thought  you  were  cool  about  it :  why,  she's  en- 
gaged to  him,  that's  all." 

"  Who's  engaged  to  whom  ?  I  don't  understand 
you;"  and  as  the  truth  flashed  through  Villiers's  brain, 
he  was  almost  seized  with  a  faintness,  though  he  threw 
it  off  after  an  effort. 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITIOX. 


831 


Kate  Wentv/orth  is  engaged  to  Huntingdon,"  re- 
turned Haskill,  shortly;  "and  I  say  it's  a  shame,  for  I 
don't  believe  there  is  a  decent  or  an  honest  oiuice  of 
flesh  in  his  whole  carcass." 

"I  —  I  —  are  you  sure  ?  "  was  all  Villiers  could  say. 

"  Sure  ?  Of  course  I  am  ;  I  wish  I  wasn't.  I  had  it 
direct  from  Cartier  himself:  you  know  you  can  never 
go  there  (Haskill  had  been  a  welcome  guest  at  the 
Thornes')  v/ithout  finding  liim  hanging  around.  They 
do  say  he  tried  it  on  himself,  and  that  she  told  him  that 
she  and  Huntingdon  were  very  old  friends,  and  had 
promised  to  marry  one  another  a  long  time  ago." 

"  T  don't  think  that  can  be  true,"  said  Villiers,  who 
for  the  most  part  recovered  his  self-possession  by  this 
time. 

"  Well,  they're  deep  and  foxy,  these  girls,  the  best  of 
them;"  and  the  Senior  looked  knowingly  at  the  grate. 
"  The  simplest  of  them  can  fool  any  man  that  ever  was 
born.  I  suspect  it  is  a  part  of  their  nature  to  do  it; 
and  when  3^ou  come  to  a  real  wide-awake  one,  there's 
no  end  to  the  mischief  she  will  do.  But  you  are  going 
out:  I  will  come  in  again  some  other  time." 

Engaged  !  engaged  to  Huntingdon  !  "  "  Engaged ! 
engaged  to  Huntingdon."  "They  were  very  old  friends, 
and  had  promised  to  marry  one  another  long  ago." 
The  words  were  like  phantoms  :  they  seemed  to  join 
hands,  and  chase  one  another  in  a  wild  dance  through 
the  young  man's  brain  as  he  pressed  on  through  the 
early  gloom,  with  mighty  strides,  towards  iNIrs.  Thome's 
house.  They  seemed  to  dance  to  the  rhythm  of  his 
footsteps ;  they  kept  time  to  the  merry  jingle  of  passing 
sleigh-bells  ;  they  moved  slowly  to  the  soft  flow  of  the 


332 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


dark  river;  tliey  trod  softly  to  the  whisper  of  some 
overhanging  pines.    Couhl  it  possibly  be  true  ? 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  give  Kate  some  good 
honest  ad^'ice  that  evening,  if  he  shoukl  be  fortunato 
enough  to  see  her  alone,  and  had  prepared  it  at  length, 
so  that  if  it  should  not  be  even  now  too  late,  the  allure- 
ments of  gay  city  life  might  not  wholly  absorb  her  best 
thoughts  and  pervert  her  best  capacities  ;  but  if  this 
were  a  fact !  And  again  the  words  coursed  wildly 
through  his  brain.  At  least,  he  would  have  an  assur- 
ance of  it  from  herself. 

Even  then  she  was  dressed  for  a  ball,  as  Villiers  no- 
ticed with  disappointment  as  Kate  glided  into  the  room, 
a  bewildering  vision  of  gossamer  drapery  trimmed  with 
flowers,  sparkling  jewels,  shining  hair,  round,  white 
arms,  and  glancing  shoulders,  —  a  lovely  apparition 
withal.  She  gave  him  her  hand  with  all  her  old 
frank,  cordial  manner,  that  was  almost  re-assuring,  and 
immediately  took  him  to  task  for  shunning  her  as  he 
had  done. 

"  I  expected  to  see  you  often,"  she  said,  coming 
straight  to  the  matter ;  for  she  had  really  been  disap- 
pointed, and  even  chagrined,  at  his  very  unreasonable 
conduct.  "  It  has  really  been  unkind,  when  you  know 
that  I  like  old  friends  better  than  new  ones ;  and 
it  is  altogether  unfair  to  misinterpret  what  one  says, 
Mr.  Villiers,"  she  added,  with  confusion,  for  he  had 
looked  at  her  hand,  and  then  at  her  face,  in  a  man- 
ner that  asked  the  question  as  plainly  as  wordj ; 
and  tlien  as  the  blood  flushed  to  her  very  temples,  she 
flashed  back  at  him  a  look  of  mingled  indignation  and 
contem])t,  as  it  were,  at  the  very  thought,  that  thrilled 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION. 


333 


him  through  and  through,  and  effectually  set  his  mind 
at  rest.  How  glorious  she  was  in  her  displeasure  !  She 
seemed  almost  for  the  instant  to  tower  above  him,  as 
she  stood  there  with  flashing  eyes  and  heightened  color. 
It  was  a  picture  that  never  faded  from  his  mind. 

"  You  know  I  cannot  choose  my  companions,  or  my 
escorts,  except  from  those  who  present  themselves ;  and 
I  have  not  even  seen  your  face  for  two  whole  months, 
though  you  are  only  three  miles  away,  and  Sam  finds 
time  to  come  here  almost  every  day,  on  one  errand  or 
another,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "  One  would  natu- 
rally suppose  that  all  your  kindness  of  last  summer  was 
only  pretended  friendship ;  "  but  at  that  instant  Rose 
came  into  the  room,  and  just  in  time  to  prevent  a  break- 
down. 

She  was  not  quite  the  same  girl  at  this  moment  that 
she  used  to  be  last  summer.  Perhaps  dissipation  had 
begun  to  tell  on  her  nerves,  as  was  Yilliers's  inward 
comment ;  perhaps  it  was  owing  to  the  shock  that  she 
had  received  when  the  report  of  her  engagement  was 
brought  to  her  that  afternoon  by  some  thoughtless 
lady  caller ;  perhaps  the  strongly  contrasted  conduct 
of  these  two  admirers,  one  of  whom  had  been  so  per- 
sistent in  his  attentions  and  to  whom  she  had  been  so 
thoughtlessly  gracious,  while  the  other  had,  for  some 
reason  that  she  could  not  comprehend,  neglected  her 
altogether,  had  caused  her  more  pain  than  she  had 
cared  to  show ;  perhaps  much  of  her  gayety  had  for  a 
time  been  enforced.  At  all  events,  she  had  indulged  in 
a  good  crying  spell  in  her  room  that  very  evening,  and 
had  felt  that  she  would  much  prefer  to  remain  at  home 
than  accompany  her  friend,  and  had  even  pleaded  a 
headache. 


334 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


"  You  must  really  go  without  me,  Rose,  to-niglit,"  she 
said  in  reply  to  Miss  Thornc's  polite  invitation  to 
Villiers  to  accompany  them.  "  My  headache  is  really 
bad  ;  and  I  am  going  to  rob  you  of  Mr.  Villiers's  escort 
too,  for  I  am  going  to  prevail  on  him  to  remain  with 
me,  and  charm  it  away." 

"  But  this  is  your  last  german,"  returned  Rose 
lightly.  "  How  can  you  ask  me  to  console  all  those 
gentlemen  who  are  expecting  to  meet  you  in  their 
sorrow  for  your  absence  ?  " 

"Make  my  excuses  to  Mrs.  ,"  said  Kate,  kissing 

her  as  she  turned  away.  Thus  she  dismissed  one 
friend,  and  retained  the  other,  whom  indeed  she  longed 
to  see. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Villiers,"  she  said,  turning  to  him 
with  her  old  bright  smile,  "  will  you  excuse  me  while  I 
doff  my  harness  ;  or  if  I  leave  you  for  a  moment,  will  it 
be  next  summer  before  I  shall  see  you  again  ?  On  the 
whole,  I  believe  I  had  better  remain  where  I  am ;  and 
she  seated  herself  near  the  grate. 

Villiers  was  in  no  mood  for  pleasantry,  however. 
All  his  ideas  of  the  wholesome  advice  he  had  stored  up 
for  her  had  vanished  at  the  cordial  reception  and  the 
eloquent  though  unspoken  reply  to  the  question  he  had 
looked.  But  it  all  came  back  tenfold,  when  he  saw  her 
nervous  agitation,  and  heard  from  her  own  lips  a  con- 
fession of  illness  ;  and  he  saw  his  duty  plainly  enough. 
Her  nerves  never  used  to  be  unstrung,  as  he  knew  very 
well ;  and  as  for  headaches,  they  were  altogether  un- 
known ;  this  he  kncAV,  for  he  had  often  heard  her  say 
so.  It  was  an  awkward  matter,  he  felt,  as  he  looked 
at  the  lovely  girl  in  her  innocent  beauty  ;  but  he  also 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION. 


33c 


felt  tliat  an  honest  friendship  demanded  tliat  he  should 
ntter  his  thoughts.  So  after  a  minute's  hesitation,  he 
began  without  comment  or  prelude,  looking  at  the  fire 
with  a  severe  expression. 

"  I  was  very  sorry.  Miss  Wentworth,  to  hear  jou  say 
and  to  perceive  myself,  that  you  are  not  quite  well.  I 
fear  it  must  be  the  result  of  the  dissipation  into  which 
you  have  taken  such  a  deep  plunge  of  late.  It  has 
grieved  me  beyond  measure  to  hear  about  it,  for  I  have 
feared  the  consequences." 

How  Kate  would  have  resented  any  suggestion  that 
savored  in  the  least  of  impertinence,  had  it  been  offered 
by  any  other  man  in  the  world  !  Now,  however,  after 
the  first  flush  of  surprise,  she  sat  demurely  quiet. 

"  It  is  not  so  much  the  injury  to  the  bodily  health 
that  is  to  be  deplored,  broken  down  as  it  frequently  is 
by  the  round  of  gayety  which  fashionable  city  people 
indulge  in,  as  it  is  the  injury  that  must  almost  inevita- 
bly result  to  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  nature.  The 
body  may  perhaps  be  recuperated  by  a  few  weeks  or 
months  of  rest  and  recreation ;  but  the  taste  for  a  false 
life,  which  is  so  often  called  into  being,  is  not  so  readily 
or  so  easily  appeased.  1  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  any 
friend  of  mine  reach  the  state  where  parties  and  balls 
had  come  to  be  the  one  engrossing  object  of  exist- 
ence." 

Still  the  young  lady  was  quiet.  Perhaps  her  thoughts 
had  wandered,  and  she  was  musing  over  that  early  time 
of  their  acquaintance  when  the  man  who  was  now  read- 
ing her  a  sermon  on  her  follies  was  too  constrained  b}^ 
her  simple  presence,  to  utter  a  single  word ;  she  recol- 
lected how  very  awkward  he  used  to  be,  and  how  his 


836 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


shyness  had  ahuost  compelled  her,  in  the  exercise  of 
commonplace  civility,  to  take  the  initiative  with  him, 
and  draw  forth  his  unconfiding  capacities.  She  could 
hardly  realize  the  change  that  had  come  over  his  deport- 
ment since  those  days;  and  she  looked  once  curiously  at 
him  as  if  to  be  sure  that  it  was  in  very  truth  George 
Villiers. 

recognize  to  its  fullest  extent  the  claim  which 
society  has  on  each  and  every  individual ;  but  what 
social  benefit  is  there  derived  from  a  german,  when  the 
eight  or  ten  hours  are  devoted  entirely  to  dancing,  and 
when  a  thin  or  scanty  dress,  perspiration,  and  a  sudden 
draught  of  air,  sow  the  seeds  of  death  itself  perhaps  ? 
Such  affairs  are  not  more  than  tolerable  if  quite  occa- 
sional ;  but  when  they  occur  four  or  five  times  a  week, 
they  were  better  to  be  utterly  discountenanced." 

An  amused  smile  was  just  perceiDtible  hovering  about 
the  young  lady's  lips ;  but  she  uttered  no  word,  though 
Villiers  paused  as  if  waiting  for  some  reply.  He  began 
to  think,  as  he  stole  a  glance  at  her,  sitting  there  a  very 
picture  of  health,  youth  and  beauty,  that,  after  all,  his 
remarks  might  in  point  of  fact  be  wholly  uncalled  for ; 
and  the  thought  v/as  any  thing  but  a  re-assuring  one. 

"  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me,  Miss  Wentworth,"  and 
he  directed  his  glance  at  her  now,  "  for  I  should  not 
think  of  speaking  to  any  one  as  I  have  to  you  unless  — 
unless  her  well-being  was  very  near  to  me ;  and  this 
must  be  my  apology,  for  I  feel  that  I  owe  you  one  for 
what  I  have  said."  Here  the  young  man  stopped  short, 
thoroughly  confused,  wishing  that  he  was  v/ell  out  of  a 
most  awkward  business,  and  well  convinced  that  giving 
extempore  lectures  to  young  ladies  was  not  his  special 


A  PEIVATE  ADMONITION. 


337 


forte.  Of  all  the  odd  actions  that  he  Tras  ever  known  to 
be  guilty  of,  his  talk  to  Kate  Wentworth  on  this  even- 
ing was  the  most  anomalous.  But  he  was  very  much 
in  love  with  her;  and  it  was  not  in  human  nature  that 
he  should  not  feel  sore  at  the  sudden  change  in  the  cur- 
rent which  had  drawn  her  for  the  time  so  far  away  from 
him.  This  made  him  almost  ready  to  quarrel  with  the 
innocent  and  unoffending  girl  herself. 

Perhaps,  for  the  first  time,  she  now  guessed  the 
real  state  of  his  heart ;  for  there  had  never  been,  in  all 
his  intercourse  with  her,  any  thing  save  the  most  guarded 
courtesy :  she  had  been  free  and  almost  familiar  with 
him,  presuming  on  his  thorough  honesty  and  reliability, 
and  had  vouchsafed  him  many  innocent,  thoughtless, 
girlish  favors,  that  no  lover  save  an  accepted  one  could 
possibly  have  received,  because  it  had  never  once  entered 
her  thoughts  that  this  grave,  dignified  young  man  had 
felt  any  thing  more  than  a  friendly  interest  in  her.  But 
of  a  sudden  this  new  thought  flashed  through  her  brain; 
and  she  was  conscious  of  a  burning  blush,  as  she  sat 
there  exposed  to  his  wonderfully  penetrating  gaze.  Of 
a  truth,  her  "  nerves  "  had  been  severely  tried  that  day. 

She  did  not  trust  herself  to  say  a  word,  but  moved 
silently  to  the  piano ;  and  the  rich-toned  instrument 
broke  forth  with  that  favorite  sonata  of  Sam's.  What 
a  strange  way  of  maldng  love  !  If  Villiers  had  said  the 
right  words  (and  he  had  them  on  his  tongue  more  than 
once,  nor  was  it  lack  of  courage  that  prevented  his 
uttering  them),  he  might  have  won  the  desire  of  his 
heart  there  and  then ;  for  strangely  enough  his  whole- 
souled  devotion  to  his  work,  and  consequent  neglect  of 
Kate,  had  really  furthered  liis  purpose  more  than  any 


338 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVAED. 


other  course  he  could  have  adopted.  She  had  counted 
on  seemg  much  of  hnn,  as  a  matter  of  course,  after  theii 
intimacy  of  the  summer ;  and  how  large  a  part  of  her 
anticipated  pleasure  lay  in  ths  expectation,  only  she 
knew,- as  day  after  day  slipped  away,  and  he  had  not 
come.  She  heard  of  him  as  devoting  all  his  time  to  his 
college  duties,  working  early  and  late,  and  taking  no 
part  in  social  pleasures.  At  first  she  was  surprised, 
then  disappointed,  then  indignant,  then  grieved.  This 
was  her  first  visit  away  from  home ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
kind  attentions  which  she  received,  and  the  whirl  of 
gayety  and  pleasure  in  which  she  was  involved,  some- 
times the  homesick  feeling  would  come,  and  with  it  the 
thought  of  Villiers  and  the  pleasant  friendship  of  last 
summer. 

She  missed  him  too,  though  unconsciously,  in  a  dif- 
ferent way.  His  intercourse  with  her  had  supplied 
something  that  had  been  wanting  to  make  her  happiness 
quite  complete  during  this  gay  winter.  She  had  been 
entertained  and  amused  by  Cartier,  and  his  affected 
manners,  and  his  spicy  and  interesting  gossip  ;  she  had 
been  flattered  at  the  homage  she  had  received  from  the 
many  elegant  gentlemen  she  had  met;  she  had  been 
fascinated  by  Huntingdon  for  a  time,  for  he  had  some- 
how seemed  to  embody  all  that  was  best  in  the  many 
allurements  of  the  new  life.  But  Huntingdon's  powers 
were  really  of  a  very  superficial  character,  and  the 
two  had  at  heart  nothing  in  common.  She  had  dis- 
covered this  as  soon  as  the  first  glamour  had  passed 
away;  and  she  was  conscious  of  missing  the  deep, 
strong,  trusty  nature  in  which  she  had  so  confided  last 
summer :  so  that  she  was  more  than  glad  to  see  Villiers 


A  PEIYATE  ADMOXITIOX. 


339 


when  he  had  come  this  evening.  It  was  almost  like 
being  at  home  once  more. 

All  this  time  the  exquisite  music  filled  the  soft  air  of 
the  room,  bringing  these  two  more  perfectly  at  peace 
than  any  spoken  words  could  have  done  ;  and,  as  the 
last  notes  died  away,  every  vestige  of  vexation,  or 
wounded  feelings,  or  angry  pride,  had  disappeared. 

"  Xow,  if  you  will,  please  forget  every  word  I  have 
said  to-night,*'  was  Yilliers's  earnest  request,  as  he  bent 
his  dear  gray  eyes  over  the  piano= 

"I  will  do  better  than  that,"  said  Kate,  lauglangly. 
"  I  will  remember  and  profit  by  your  discourse.  Only, 
you  ought  to  have  favored  me  with  it  sooner  ;  foi  I  go 
back  to  Arcadia  to-morrow,  and  I  do  not  know  v  lien  I 
shall  be  a  butterfly  of  fashion  again.  I  have  enjoyed 
to  the  full,  because  I  have  always  had  this  in  mind; 
I  have  enjoyed  every  thing  so  much  I "  and  she  gave  a 
little  sigh. 

"  Seriously,  now,  Mr.  Villiers,''  she  continued,  after  a 
moment's  silence,  "  don't  you  think  that  you  have  fol- 
lowed one  extreme  as  far  as  I  have  the  other?  Per- 
haps, if  you  had  condescended  to  depart  a  httle  from 
3-our  horribly  dull  routine,  and  favored  us  a  little  with 
your  company,  we  might  have  found  it  pleasanter  to 
have  made  those  dreadful  germans  only  occasional. 
If  our  friends  leave  us  to  our  ovtl  devices,  and  with- 
draw entirely  the  aid  of  their  more  experienced  judg- 
ment, they  cannot  blame  us  if  we  err  at  times.  I  have 
peeped  into  Horace  a  little  :  don't  he  give  some  very 
good  advice  about  choosing  a  middle  course,  that  is 
equally  good  for  all  ?  "  Though  Kate  laughed  lightly, 
it  was  evident  that  her  heart  was  speaking. 


340 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVARD. 


"  It  is  my  turn  now.  I  am  going  to  lecture  you,  and 
then  we  shall  be  quits.  I  have  had  a  feeling  that  we 
don't  always  meet  the  most  worthy  gentlemea,  or  at 
least  that,  if  we  do,  they  show  us  only  the  most  trivial 
side  of  their  natures  in  our  social  gatherings.  If  this  is 
true,  are  we  entirely  to  blame  for  acquiring  a  taste  for 
frivolity  and  a  false  life,  as  you  call  it  ?  I  am  sure  I 
think  that  we  girls,  all  of  us,  desire  the  noblest  and 
truest ;  I  think  our  natures  tend  to  that ;  and  I  think  an 
earnest,  high-minded  man,  with  a  purpose  in  life,  owes  it 
to  his  friends  that  at  least  they  shall  have  some  associa- 
tion with  him,  and  gain  some  courage  and  strength  from 
the  mere  contact  with  his  character ;  and  I  do  not  think 
that  he  is  without  fault  entirely  if  he  devotes  himself 
entirely  to  himself.  There,  now !  I  hardly  knew  what 
I  was  going  to  say  when  I  began,  and  it  is  my  turn  to 
beg  your  pardon ;  but  you  will  see  that  I  have  heard 
rumors,  and  had  thoughts,  as  well  as  you." 

"And  I  too,"  said  Villiers,  thoughtfully^,  "  will  remem- 
ber and  profit  by  what  you  have  said." 

The  rest  of  the  evening  sped  away  on  wings. 
There  was  much  to  tell,  now  that  the  ice  was  once 
broken ;  and  the  room  resounded  with  the  voices  and 
the  merry  laughter  of  these  young  people  who  an  hour 
ago,  it  had  seemed  to  one  of  them,  might  be  an  earth's 
breadth  apart.  Yes,  the  winged  moments  flew  away 
till  the  sound  of  the  carriage  at  the  door  made  Villiers 
start  up  almost  in  alarm ;  and  lo  !  it  was  half-past  one. 

"You  must  certainly  let  the  carriage  take  you  to 
Cambridge,  Mr.  Villiers,"  Rose  urged:  "it  is  worse 
than  the  dark  pulls  you  used  to  insist  on  taking  last 
summer,  —  walking  to  Cambridge  at  this  late  hour." 


A  PRIVATE  ADMONITION. 


341 


Kate  also  lent  her  entreaties,  but  without  avail;  and 
once  more  the  young  fellow  strode  forth  into  the  gloom. 
But  what  a  change !  How  the  very  darkness  seemed 
as  light,  and  the  icy  frozen  earth  to  echo  his  footsteps 
with  joy !  How  the  river  sang  on  its  mysterious  sweep 
to  the  sea,  how  the  wind  through  the  little  clump  of 
pines  whispered  of  happiness,  how  the  deep  stillness 
of  night  augured  peace !  At  least  she  was  free,  and 
the  great  danger  which  he  had  feared  was  passed. 
Until  the  time  for  him  to  speak  should  come,  if  it  was 
to  come,  he  must  wait  and  work  and  hope. 


XXI. 


THE  CONFEKENCE. 

Huntingdon  presided  at  the  class  supper  at  Taft's 
with  all  possible  grace,  dignity,  and  wit ;  and  a  right 
royal  time  the  fifty  or  sixty  Sophomores  who  attended 
the  occasion  had  enjoyed,  with  the  good  cheer,  ringing 
songs  and  choruses,  and  the  good-fellowship.  Long- 
street  was  as  merry  as  any  one  ;  but  not  even  he  cared 
to  "go  out  on  to  the  beach,  and  roll."  Huntingdon 
presided  at  the  class  supper ;  but  he  failed  of  being 
elected  president  of  the  Institute  for  the  second  term, 
Lyman  having  succeeded  him  in  that  dignity.  He 
seemed  very  much  downcast  about  it,  too ;  for  he  had 
really  worked  hard  to  secure  a  re-election,  making  it  a 
test  matter  of  his  power  with  the  men.  "  I  believe  I 
am  the  most  unpopular  man  in  the  class,  chum,"  he 
said,  just  after  the  session  was  over.  "I  didn't  get  a 
dozen  votes  at  any  time." 

Whether  he  had  ventured  to  try  his  fortune  with 
Kate  Wentworth,  or  no,  is  a  matter  which  no  one  ever 
knew.  He  had  certainly  been  with  her  the  morning 
before  her  departure ;  but  what  passed  between  the  two 
who  had  almost  been  lovers,  —  if  any  thing  of  that 
nature  had  occurred,  —  was  a  sealed  book.  Villiers  and 
Rose  Thorne,  Mr.  Cartier,  Will  Adams  and  Miss  El- 

342 


THE  CONFERENCE. 


343 


dredge,  had  waved  their  farewells,  as  the  train  bearing 
the  brother  and  sister  glided  ont  of  the  depot ;  but 
Huntingdon,  so  conspicuous  hitherto  for  his  atten- 
tions, was  not  one  of  those  to  say  good-by.  Kate's 
departure  was  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  those  brilliant 
social  pleasures  which  all  had  enjoyed  with  so  much 
zest ;  for  the  few  remaining  days  of  the  term  slipped' 
quietly  away,  and  the  winter  vacation  dispersed  the 
students,  almost  without  an  exception. 

The  experience  of  the  preceding  summer  at  Worces- 
ter had  served  to  awaken  an  unwonted  interest  in  all 
boating  matters,  both  at  Harvard  and  at  Yale.  The 
Harvard  boating-men  had  determined  to  wipe  out  the 
defeat  of  the  year  before,  if  any  possible  exertions  could 
compass  that  result ;  while  Yale  was  equally  determined 
that  the  victory  should  stand  as  a  representative  one. 

During  the  second  term,  some  long-desired  and  most 
necessary  improvements  in  the  boat-houses  were  fairly 
inaugurated.  At  low  tide,  the  water  receded  several 
feet  below  the  level  of  the  mud  bottom  where  the  boat- 
houses  stood ;  so  that  it  was  impossible,  at  that  time,  to 
launch  a  single  six-oar,  or  to  get  it  in  again,  without 
a  tedious  delay,  if  launched  when  the  tide  served. 
Moreov&r  the  method  of  hoisting  and  lowering  the  long, 
narrow  six-oars,  through  the  open  space  in  the  floor, 
was,  at  best,  awkward  and  inconvenient;  and  a  boat- 
house  which  ought  to  accommodate  three  or  four  shells 
could  be  used  for  only  a  single  boat.  In  short,  the 
accommodations  were  such  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  a  crew  to  train  properly  and  pull  regularly. 

The  improvements  consisted  in  flooring  over  the  boat- 
houses,  and  arranging  shelves  or  brackets  on  either  wall 


344 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


for  the  boats  to  rest  on.  A  stout  broad  platform  resting 
on  piles  was  built  across  their  river-front.  A  dredging- 
machine  was  called  into  requisition,  and  a  basin  made 
sufficient  to  float  a  large  raft,  which  was  securely  an- 
chored at  either  end  by  two  or  more  piles  being  driven 
deep  in  the  mud,  so  that  the  raft  could  rise  and  fall 
with  the  tide  without  drifting  from  its  place.  Two 
long  bridges  fastened  to  the  platform  at  one  end,  and 
moving  on  rollers  as  the  raft  rose  and  fell,  spanned  the 
distance  between  the  raft  and  the  platform.  Dressing- 
rooms  and  closets  were  constructed  also,  for  the  men. 
The  platform  afforded  a  fine  view  of  the  river  to  either 
bridge,  and  was  a  convenient  lounging-place  for  the 
boating-men  and  their  friends. 

It  was  to  Wilkinson  that  these  improvements  were 
principally  due.  He  had  worked  indefatigably  all 
through  the  fall  and  winter.  Not  only  the  undergradu- 
ates, but  old  boating-men  and  their  friends,  and  the 
friends  of  the  college,  were  enlisted  in  the  cause ;  and 
by  the  time  the  ice  was  fairly  off  the  river,  the  arrange- 
ments were  complete.  Now  a, crew  could  launch  their 
boat  when  they  pleased ;  they  were  secured  from  having 
their  clothing  stolen  ;  they  took  the  shell  from  its  rest- 
ing-place, carried  it  down  to  the  raft,  and  set  it  into  the 
water ;  there  was  no  sliding  down  or  climbing  up  of 
ropes ;  their  friends  could  have  comfortable  quarters  to 
lounge  in  while  they  were  waiting  the  return  of  the 
crew.    The  interest  in  boating  doubled  at  once. 

This  year  the  Harvard  was  a  working  crew.  Those 
conceited  and  lazy  Seniors  had  graduated  and  de- 
parted; and  Wilkinson,  who  had  been  appointed  cap- 
tain, was  free  to  pick  his  crew  of  the  best  material 


THE  CONFERENCE. 


345 


he  could  find.  He  liad  at  once  selected  Tom  Hawes  for 
stroke,  and  Smith  for  bow.  Tom's  usually  gium  face 
had  brightened  with  honest  pride  when  he  was  offered 
the  stroke  of  the  Harvard:  it  was  almost  too  much 
glory  to  be  possible  ;  but  he  was  as  modest  as  he  was 
honest;  and,  after  the  first  flush  of  pleasure  had  sub- 
sided, he  very  resolutely  declined  the  honor. 

"  No,"  said  he  to  the  Junior  who  had  so  nobly  deferred 
his  own  rights :  "  we  want  Smith  for  the  bow,  and  we 
want  you  for  strolie ;  and  I  can  pull  in  the  boat,  three 
or  five :  it  don't  matter  so  long  as  I  have  a  port  oar," 

"But  that  won't  do,"  returned  Wilkinson;  "for  I 
am  going  to  pull  five  myself,  and  Wentworth  is  to  pull 
three,  and  there  is  no  place  left  for  you  except  to  pull 
stroke.  No,  I  sha'n't  take  a  refusal.  If  I  can  have  the 
men  I  want  where  I  want  them,  I  believe  we  can  teach 
those  beggars  a  lesson,  and  whip  the  best  crew  they 
ever  put  on  to  the  lake,  and  whip  them  soundly  too ; 
and  that  is  what  we  all  want,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  about  it." 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  continued  the  Junior.  "  I  should 
like  to  pull  stroke  of  the  Harvard :  what  boating-man 
was  there  ever  in  the  college  that  could  help  wishing  it  ? 
But  I  would  a  thousand  times  rather  pull  five,  and  go 
up  there,  and  come  in  where  the  Harvard  ought  to  come 
in,  than  pull  stroke,  and  come  in  as  we  did  last  year. 
What  we  are  all  working  for  is  to  win  the  colors,  isn't 
it  ?  and,  to  insure  our  greatest  likelihood  of  doing  that, 
we  want  you  to  pull  stroke." 

"I'll  do  it  if  you  think  I  ought;"  and  once  more 
Tom's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure.  "  But,"  he  con- 
tinued, "you  are  heavier  than  I  am,  and  the  boat  would 
trim  better  with  you  in  the  stern." 


346  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  The  boat  will  trim  well  enough.  I  am  going  to 
have  Lewis  for  two,  and  Wentworth  for  three  ;  they  are 
both  heavy  men,  particularly  Lewis.  I  haven't  made 
up  my  mind  as  to  four ;  but  Smith  is  light,  and  I'll  have 
the  boat  trim  just  as  she  ought  to." 

"  Well,  now,  let  me  tell  you  one  thing,"  said  Tom, 
warming  with  the  subject.  "  Take  an  axe,  and  make 
toothpicks  of  that  last  year's  Harvard,  and  get  a  boat 
not  over  nineteen  inches  wide." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  your  narrow  boats.  That  is  too 
narrow,"  returned  Wilkinson,  doubtfully.  "  You  men 
did  wonders  last  summer,  but  I  don't  believe  it  was  the 
narrow  boat." 

"  It  was  more  the  boat  than  any  other  one  thing," 
said  Tom,  earnestly.  "I  don't  believe  in  a  boat  any 
wider  than  is  just  enough  to  sit  in ;  "  and  the  two  friends 
parted  to  renew  their  discussion  at  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity. 

All  this  had  happened  in  the  fall,  and  the  men  had 
worked  regularly  through  the  winter,  with  a  zeal  which 
was  something  new.  Hawes  had  invented  a  machine 
called  a  rowing- weight ;  and  Wilkinson  had  by  dint  of 
perseverance  introduced  three  or  four  of  them  into  the 
gymnasium.  The  apparatus  was  simple,  and  afforded 
splendid  practice  through  the  winter  months,  and  was 
as  near  like  pulling  in  a  boat  as  any  thing  could  well  be. 
The  men  had  worked  manfully  at  these  weights,  follow- 
ing the  lead  of  Wilkinson  and  Hawes,  who,  estimating 
that  eight  hundred  strokes  was  about  equal  to  a  pull  of 
three  miles,  had  set  that  stint  for  the  crew.  The  result 
of  this  was  that  when  the  river  opened  the  men  were 
in  splendid  physical  condition,  and  there  was  no  need 
of  over-exertion. 


THE  CONFBHEXCE. 


347 


Unaccountable  as  it  appeared  to  Tom  Hawes  and 
"Wilkinson,  Sam  had  receiyed  the  intimation  that  he 
was  to  pull  three  in  the  Harvard,  with  a  coolness 
almost  amounting  to  indifference ;  and  had  paid  no 
attention  whatever  to  the  suggestion  of  the  captain 
that  eight  hundred  strokes  a  day  on  the  weights  were 
absolutely  required  of  every  member  of  the  crew.  All 
his  old  enthusiasm  seemed  to  have  disappeared ;  and 
finally,  when  pressed  on  the  matter  by  Wilkinson  and 
the  rest,  he  said,  though  apparently  not  without  some 
misgivings,  that  he  thought  he  shouldn't  pull  that  year. 
After  this  decision  was  once  announced  he  seemed  more 
inclined  to  adhere  to  it,  the  more  he  was  importuned ; 
and,  of  a  truth,  he  was  assailed  on  all  sides  in  a  manner 
that  made  it  very  difficult  for  him.  The  worst  of  it  all 
was  that  he  was  unable  to  offer  a  single  reason  for  his 
strange  determination.  It  hurt  his  own  feelings  more 
than  any  one  imagined ;  for  Went  worth  was  generally 
considered  the  very  best  man  in  the  boat,  and  his  action 
in  refusing  to  pull  was  something  which  every  man  in 
the  college  felt  he  had  a  personal  interest  in,  and  which 
he  had  a  right  to  make  a  personal  matter  of  if  he  chose. 
And  many  chose  to  do  so.  Men  whom  he  respected, 
and  who  were  prominent  in  their  classes,  argued  the 
matter  with  Sam  again  and  again.  It  was  hard  to  sav 
Ko,  and  doubly  hard  to  say  No  to  TIawes,  his  old  stroke, 
who  was  grieved  and  disappointed  more  than  he  could 
express ;  and  to  Smith,  his  old  captain,  who  was  at  first 
severe  enough  in  his  condemnation.  Then  there  were 
Lewis  and  Lyman,  and  Adams  and  Longstreet,  and 
even  Haskill,  who  never  let  slip  an  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressijig  his  views  about  a  man  who  had  it  in  his  power 


348  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

to  "  let  his  college  be  whipped  by  a  set  of  beastly  beg- 
gars, and  everlastingly  disgraced,  or  to  go  in  and  '  pluck 
up  drowning  honor  by  the  roots,'  as  sweet  William  hath 

it,  and  refused  to ;  and  all  on  account  of  some  

obstinate  notion  that  the  young  man  has  taken,  for 
there's  no  sense  in  it  all." 

"  If  I  was  big  enough  I'd  thrash  you  into  it,"  Long- 
street  said  a  score  of  times,  shaking  his  fist  in  his  big- 
classmate's  face. 

Even  Villiers  looked  gravely  at  his  friend  with  his 
serious  eyes,  whenever  the  matter  came  up,  and  some- 
times argued  the  point  with  him. 

"  If  you  were  devoting  yourself  to  study,  and  didn't 
wish  to  pull  on  that  account,  I  shouldn't  have  a  word 
to  say ;  but  you  are  not  doing  that,  as  you  must  confess, 
and  you  had  much  better  be  in  the  boat,  in  my  judg- 
ment." ■ 

Huntingdon  was  almost  the  only  man,  of  all  Sam's 
friends,  who  did  not  urge  him  to  reverse  his  decision ; 
and  he  had  come  to  look  with  too  much  envy  on  the 
young  fellow's  popularity  and  fair  prospects  to  give  him 
wittingly  any  advice  that  would  tend  to  further  his 
advancement  in  either  of  these  matters. 

Sam  bore  all  this  pressure  with  infinite  good-nature, 
as  indeed  he  felt  that  he  was  in  duty  bound  to  bear  it ; 
and  he  even  consented  to  a  proposition  by  Wilkinson 
that  he  should  work  along  with  the  men  even  if  he 
would  not  agree  to  pull.  "  It  won't  hurt  you,  at  all 
events,"  said  Wilkinson  ;  "  and  by  the  time  we  get  into 
the  boat  you  may  change  your  mind," 

So  the  young  man  worked  faithfully  with  his  com- 
rades, with  whom,  indeed,  he  would  fain  have  joined 


THE  CONFEEEXCE. 


349 


himself  heart  and  soul,  only  that  he  had  heard  Rose 
Thorne  say  some  few  words  that  led  him  to  think 
she  did  not  altogether  approve  of  a  young  gentleman's 
pulling  in  a  boat.  It  was  only  a  remark  that  was 
spoken  incidentally,  a  protest  from  the  most  delicately 
sensitive  part  of  her  nature  against  the  hard  work  and 
rough  usage  consequent  upon  a  season's  training  in  a 
six-oar,  and  the  effect  upon  a  gentleman's  appearance,  — 
one  which  she  would  not  perhaps  have  re-affirmed ;  but 
it  was  fraught  with  meaning  to  Sam.  As  the  weeks 
and  months  rolled  away,  he  became  more  and  more 
determined  to  win  her ;  and  thus  he  had  resolved  that, 
if  rough  hands  and  a  sunburned  face  made  him  less 
acceptable  to  her,  he  would  never  pull  in  a  six-oar 
again. 

So  through  the  winter  and  early  spring  he  worked 
along  with  the  crew;  for  he  felt  that  he  must  have  seme 
exercise,  and  that  he  might  as  well  take  it  in  this  form 
as  in  another.  He  had  even  been  out  in  the  boat  with 
them  once  or  twice.  It  became  apparent,  that  unless  he 
was  going  to  take  the  place  in  the  boat,  and  keep  it, 
he  ought  to  say  so,  and  retire  for  good  and  all ;  and 
meeting  Wilkinson  and  Hawes  on  the  Delta,  as  they 
were  coming  up  from  the  gymnasium,  he  told  them  so, 
though  he  did  it  with  a  he^vy  spirit. 

It  happened  just  then  that  the  cheery  form  of  the 
Philosopher,  who  was  almost  the  only  professor  in  the 
college  who  manifested  any  interest  in  the  sports  of  the 
students,  drew  near  the  three  boating-men. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  Tom,  suddenly,  "  let's  leave  it 
out  to  him,"  pointing  over  his  shoulder.  "Will  you? 
Come,  now,  that  is  fair; "  and  his  face  brightened. 


350 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  I  don't  see  why  it  isn't,"  said  Wilkinson,  earnestly 
"  we  are  all  of  us  interested  parties,  and  of  course  preju 
diced  in  this  matter.  I  know,  Wentworth,  you  must 
have  some  very  strong  reasons  for  holding  out  as  you 
do  ;  perhaps  you  wouldn't  care  to  tell  us  what  they  are 
altogether.  Now,  there  isn't  a  man  connected  with  the 
college  more  respected,  or  more  justly  respected,  than 
he  is,"  nodding  with  his  head.  "  You  can  tell  him,  if 
you  like,  without  it's  going  any  further.  Will  you 
leave  it  to  him  ?   Quick,  or  he'll  pass  by  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Sam,  with  sudden  resolution,  "  I  will ;  " 
and  the  three  young  men  turned,  and  intercepted  the 
professor,  who  stopped  with  an  inquiring  smile;  and 
Wilkinson  opened  the  matter,  — 

"We  know  that  you  are  interested  in  every  thing 
which  concerns  the  students ;  and  that  is  the  excuse  we 
offer  for  bringing  a  matter  before  you,  as  we  beg  your 
leave  to  do." 

"  No  excuses  are  necessary,  Mr.  Wilkinson,"  said  the 
Philosopher ;  and  he  nodded  and  smiled. 

"  We  have  agreed  to  leave  to  your  judgment  a 
matter  which  concerns  the  college  as  well  as  ourselves, 
and  about  which  we  cannot  agree." 

The  Philosopher  nodded  again,  though  more  seriously. 

"  You  know  we  are  boating-men ;  and  I  am  chosen  to 
select  the  crew  who  are  to  represent  the  college  in  the 
contest  with  Yale.  It  is  an  honor  which  I  feel  all  the 
more  deeply  the  responsibility  of,  in  the  face  of  last 
summer's  experience ;  and  I  am  bound  to  do  every 
thing  I  can  to  secure  the  best  men.  I  have  made 
Hawes  s^-roke,  and  Smith  bow  of  the  Harvard ;  and  of 
course  we  counted  on  Wentworth  to  pull  the  same 


THE  CONFERENCE. 


351 


place  that  he  did  last  year  in  his  class  boat.  But  he  has 
refused  to  pull  at  all ;  and  nothing  that  I  or  any  one 
else  has  been  able  to  say  could  make  him  change  his 
mind.  I  haven't  argued  with  hun  much  during  the 
winter,  because  I  thought  he  would  come  around  all 
right  when  the  river  opened ;  and  he  has  kept  along,  at 
my  request,  with  the  men  in  their  work.  I  don't  think 
we  ought  to  go  to  Worcester  tliis  summer,  unless  we 
can  have  the  best  crew  that  the  college  can  possibly 
turn  out ;  for  I  think,  if  we  do,  that  there  will  only  be 
a  repetition  of  what  occurred  last  summer.  Yale  will 
have  the  same  crew  almost  without  exception ;  and  to 
beat  it  I  believe  we  have  got  to  make  the  best  time  that 
has  ever  been  made  yet  by  any  college  crew,  in  a  six- 
oar.  When  I  say  that  Wentworth  is  the  best  man  in 
the  college  to  pull  three  in  the  Harvard,  I  only  say 
what  everybody  in  Cambridge  knows  to  be  a  fact.  If 
we  go  to  Worcester  without  him,  we  shall  go  there  with 
a  second-rate  crew.  There  has  been  a  good  deal  of 
money  contributed  and  expended,  that  we  boating-men 
might  have  a  better  chance  on  the  river,  and  keep  up,  if 
possible,  with  the  increased  interest  in  boating  matters 
which  has  come  about  at  Yale ;  and  the  money  was 
Tnostly  given  by  graduates  and  friends  of  the  college, 
and  readily  too,  when  matters  were  explained  to  them, 
DC  cause  they  all  felt  that  it  wasn't  pleasant  to  go  up  to 
Worcester,  and  see  the  Harvard  beaten,  or  fair  that  our 
boating-men  shouldn't  have  better  facilities.  For  one,  I 
have  spent  time  on  these  things  that  almost  every  one 
would  say  ought  to  be  devoted  to  other  matters  ;  but  I 
have  felt  that  some  one  must  attend  to  them,  or  the 
college  regatta  would  have  to  be  given  up ;  and  I  have 


352  STTTDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


neglected  my  regular  duties  for  this  business,  because 
I  have  felt  that  the  college  was  more  to  me  than  I  was 
to  myself;  and  I  think  every  man  would  feel  so,  if 
he  would  only  look  at  the  question  in  its  proper  light. 
I  thought  all  along  that,  when  we  fairly  got  into  the 
boat,  Wentworth  would  come  around  all  right;  for 
I  couldn't  see  any  reason  why  he  should  not,  compared 
with  the  reasons  why  he  should ;  but  he  still  holds  out. 
I  know  that  he  must  have  some  reason  for  this  which  is 
good  and  valid  in  his  own  mind,  though  I  have  no  idea 
what  it  is  ;  but  I  don't  believe  that  it  is  sufficient  in 
itself,  or  that  it  would  really  weigh  against  his  doing  as 
we  wish  to  have  him.  Mr.  Hawes  suggested  that  we 
leave  the  question  with  you  to  decide,  we  to  state  our 
reasons  why  he  should  come  into  the  Harvard  to  you, 
and  he  to  state  his  why  he  should  not,  privately  if  he 
pleased;  and  then  you  should  decide  whether  he 
should  pull,  or  not.  If  you  say  No,  then  nothing  more 
shall  be  said ;  but  we  will  do  the  best  we  can  without 
him.  Wentworth  has  assented  to  this.  I  think  I  have 
presented  my  reasons.  Shall  we  retire  for  a  while?" 
and  he  looked  earnestly  at  Sam. 

The  Philosopher  looked  at  him  too,  through  his 
spectacles,  with  a  curious  smile. 

Sam  stood  doubtful.  Should  he  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it  to  the  professor,  whom  indeed  he  felt  he  could 
trust  as  the  very  soul  of  honor?  should  he  tell  him 
that  there  was  a  girl  who  was  more  to  him  than  him- 
self, than  the  college,  than  the  whole  world ;  and  that 
it  was  to  win  her,  if  so  it  might  be  permitted  him,  that 
he  had  decided  against  his  own  wishes  and  his  friends' 
entreaties  ?    After  all,  unless  she  loved  him  (and  he 


THE  CO^^FEREXCE. 


353 


had  come  to  feel  almost  sure  that  she  did  not),  could 
he  ever  possess  her  ?  And  if  she  loved  him,  would  she 
love  him  any  the  less  for  doing  his  part  with  all  his 
might  (even  though  it  made  him  rougher  and  less  gen- 
tlemanly in  appearance  for  a  little  time),  if  those  compe- 
tent to  judge  thought  he  could  do  that  part  better  than 
any  one  else  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  his  college, 
whose  welfare  he  had  at  heart  as  deeply  and  sincerely 
as  any  one?  If  she  did  not  love  him,  would  she  accept 
him  on  account  of  this  sacrifice  of  which  she  could  know 
nothing?  He  stood  irresolute  under  the  gray  clouds  of 
that  cold,  damp  spring  afternoon,  the  professor  regard- 
ing him  earnestly  on  the  one  hand,  the  two  friends  half 
in  the  act  of  withdrav/ing,  and  eagerly  waiting  an  inti- 
mation from  him  to  do  so,  on  the  other. 

"  I  will  pull,"  he  said  gravely  to  Wilkinson  and  Tom. 
It  seemed  almost  as  though  he  had  said,  "  I  will  give 
up  Rose  Thorne ;  "  and  to  the  professor,  "  I  am  sorry 
I  have  caused  you  all  this  trouble  for  nothing." 

"It  is  not  for  nothing  if  it  has  in  some  way  led 
you  to  make  up  your  mind  for  yourself,"  said  the 
Philosopher,  nodding  again,  "  as  seems  to  be  the  case." 

"  You  would  have  decided  against  me,  at  any  rate," 
said  Sam,  smiling  sadly  at  him. 

"  That  is  by  no  means  sure,"  said  the  professor,  put- 
ting his  arm  through  the  student's.  Nodding  pleasantly 
to  Wilkinson  and  Hawes,  he  moved  on  with  Sam  across 
the  Delta;  for  he  perceived  that  he  was  not  more  than 
half  reconciled.  I  am  glad  you  made  up  your  mind 
for  yourself;  for  I  am  sure  I  wanted  to  have  you  in 
the  Harvard  as  much  as  ]\Ir.  Hawes.  But  I  should  hardly 
have  dared  to  send  you  there  against  your  own  convic- 
tions." 


354 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


"  My  convictions  were  all  for  my  going  in." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  you  decided  wisely.  Unless  there 
is  som3  strong  moral  conviction  to  the  contrary,  or 
unless  a  man's  scholarship  is  going  to  be  entirely  ruined, 
any  one  who  can  pull  as  well  as  you  can  ought  to  do  so, 
particularly  in  an  emergency  like  the  present.  By 
another  year,  you  will  have  earned .  exemption  if  you 
wish  to  claim  it.  I  should  have  decided  against  you,  if 
your  reasons  had  proved  merely  personal." 

"  Personal  and  selfish,"  returned  Sam,  laughing  a 
little  bitterly. 

The  Philosopher  looked  quickly  and  sharply  though 
kindly  at  the  young  man,  but  made  no  reply ;  and  the 
twain  walked  on  in  silence. 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Wentworth,"  he  said,  as  at  length 
they  reached  his  house  ;  "  oblige  me.  Come  in,  and 
smoke  a  cigar  with  me  ; "  and  they  entered. 

Sam  was  now  once  more  fairly  in  a  six,  and  pulling 
very  much  as  the  year  before,  except  that  the  work  was 
harder  and  more  regular  since  they  could  always  launch 
the  shell  at  a  regular  hour  of  the  day :  only,  this  year 
there  was  no  training  for  any  Harvard  regatta;  and 
instead  of  being  in  a  Freshman  boat,  he  was  the  most 
popular  and  most  boasted  oar  in  the  college.  The  plat- 
form in  front  of  the  boat-houses  was  always  thronged,  of 
a  pleasant  evening,  with  fellows  who  were  there  to  give 
the  crew  a  hearty  greeting,  and  bear  a  hand  in  stowing 
away  the  boat  if  permitted ;  and  to  say  that  Sam  re- 
pented of  his  decision  would  not  be  true.  His  calls  at 
the  Thornes'  were  less  frequent,  of  course,  than  they  had 
been  wt  en  Kate  was  there,  or  for  some  time  after;  but 


THE  CONFERENCE. 


355 


he  never  missed  his  Sunday  evening  tea  there,  and  was 
pretty  certain  to  meet  Rose  at  least  once  during  the 
week.  She  smiled  approval  too  of  the  work  he  was 
doing  in  the  boat,  when  he  told  her,  as  he  did  not  till 
late  in  the  spring. 

"  You  enjoy  it  so  much,"  she  said,  with  one  of  her 
charming  smiles  (she  had  been  peculiarly  gracious  to 
him  that  Sunday  evening,  quite  bewildering  him)  ;  "  and 
I  am  sure  you  will  win  this  year  as  you  did  last.  I  am 
sorry,"  and  she  looked  him  full  in  the  face  with  the 
slightest  conscious  blush,  "  that  I  shall  not  be  here  to 
witness  your  triumph." 

"  Not  be  here !  "  said  Sam,  feeling  as  though  some 
terrible  revelation  were  coming. 

"  No,"  said  she,  very  sweetly :  "  we  are  going  to 
Europe  in  June.  The  day  after  Class  Day,  I  think,  the 
steamer  sails.    It  has  only  just  now  been  decided  on." 

Sam  sat  silent.   "  Do  you  go  alone  ?  "  he  said,  at  length. 

"  Yes ;  mamma  and  I.  We  are  old  travellers,  and 
have  been  before." 

"  For  a  long  visit  ?  " 

"  Nothing  is  decided.  Mamma's  health  is  very  deli- 
cate, and  has  been  for  some  time  ;  and  she  is  confident 
that  the  change  will  do  her  good.  How  long  we  shall 
stay  is  of  course  uncertain ;  but  probably  a  year  or  two. 
"We  go  direct  to  the  South  of  France." 

How  easil}'  she  spoke  the  words,  as  though  it  were 
only  a  week's  shopping  in  New  York  that  she  was 
announcing  I  That  was  all  that  was  ever  said  between 
these  two  about  the  separation ;  the  preparations,  as  the 
summ3r  drew  on,  going  steadily  on.  There  was  much 
to  be  accomplished ;  but  all  was  done  without  remark. 


XXII. 


haskill's  spread. 

The  second  term  of  the  Sophomore  year  had  drawn 
nearly  to  its  close,  and  the  class  had  passed  over  half 
the  curriculum.  It  had  been  a  prosperous  year  for  this 
company  of  students,  replete  with  earnest  work;  and 
though  this  had  been  sometimes  grumbled  at  a  good 
deal,  there  was  not  a  man  but  felt  that  he  had  been 
improved.  It  had  been  a  year  productive  of  great 
changes  on  the  rank-list,  as  will  appear  by  and  by: 
many  who  had  stood  high  falling  ignominiously ;  while 
slow,  steady-working,  painstaking  men  had  climbed 
into  their  places.  It  had  been  a  year  bringing,  as  we 
have  seen,  changes  in  the  class  leadership  ;  Huntingdon, 
and  such  of  his  followers  as  adhered  to  him  still,  having 
gradually  lost  their  influence,  though  no  particular  man 
had  succeeded  that  worthy  ;  perhaps  because  there  had 
been  no  occasion  for  a  leader,  after  the  time  for  fighting 
Sophomores  and  hazing  Freshmen  had  passed  by.  For 
the  most  part,  the  members  of  the  class  had  lost  their 
boyish  looks,  and  had  grown  mature  and  manly.  When 
the  last  Sophomore  annual  (these  annuals  were  the 
severest  tests  of  the  entire  four  years)  was  finished,  and 
the  men  came  from  the  ordeal  Juniors,  there  was  a 
feeling  of  complacency  quite  indescribable  pervading 
their  cheerful  faces. 

356 


haskill's  spread. 


357 


It  had  been  arranged  that  Kate  and  Mrs.  Wentworth 
should  come  to  Cambridge  some  days  before  Class  Day, 
in  order  that  they  might  not  only  be  Haskill's  guests 
on  that  occasion,  but  also  have  an  opportunity  of  visit- 
ing the  hall  and  buildings.  They  were  to  remain  till 
after  the  Thornes  had  sailed. 

"  That  will.be  charming!  "  exclaimed  Miss  Eldredge, 
when  Sam,  announcing  the  plan,  interceded  for  her 
assistance  in  procuring  rooms  for  them.  "  I  will  arrange 
all  that,"  said  she.  "  They  shall  have  my  rooms ;  and 
I  can  get  on  very  easily,  without  the  slightest  incon- 
venience." 

If  Cambridge  is  ever  charming,  it  is  during  these 
early  weeks  in  June.  The  college  grounds  with  the 
breezy  elms,  nicely  kept  walks  and  drives,  and  fresh 
green  turf,  are  then  the  centre  of  attraction  to  visitors 
and  friends  of  the  students.  There  was  ample  oppor- 
tunity to  inspect  every  thing,  —  Harvard  Hall,  with  its 
pictures  and  sanded  floor,  and  its  trophies  of  bat  and 
oar ;  the  chapel,  and  the  old  chapel ;  the  museum  in 
Boylston,  and  the  other  museum  "  down  by  Divinity;" 
Gore  Hall  the  library,  with  its  jocund  custodian, 
equally  an  object  of  interest  with  the  stores  of  books 
and  pictures ;  the  Botanical  Gardens,  a  mile  away. 
Everywhere  the  ladies  received  the  kindest  attention ; 
and  Villiers  even  gained  permission  for  them  to  visit 
the  observatory,  and  look  through  the  big  telescope. 

It  was  a  season  of  the  freshest  pleasure,  pleasure  as 
delightful  as  the  season.  Escorts  were  never  wanting. 
Sam,  to  be  sure,  was  not  to  be  counted  on  always,  and 
Himtingdon  made  no  attempt  at  renewing  his  old  inti- 
macy ;  but  Villiers  remembered  the  admonition  he  had 


358 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


received  on  a  certain  occasion,  and  found  his  time  quite 
at  the  ladies'  disposal.  Haskill,  too,  could  call  himself 
his  own  master,  for  which  he  expressed  his  devout 
thanks  in  his  own  peculiar  way  more  than  once ;  and  a 
guide  more  replete  with  anecdote,  or  one  affording  more 
entertainment  by  wonderful  recitals,  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  secure.  Adams  always  made  his 
companionship  felt  by  his  considerate  care;  and  Mr. 
Cartier,  who  was  still  the  social  lion  of  Cambridge, 
was  pleased  to  attach  himself  to  this  party  for  the 
time. 

Then  there  were  croquet  parties  (the  game  was  at 
that  time  just  at  its  greatest  popularity)  for  morning, 
afternoon,  and  evening ;  and  one  evening  serenade  while 
they  were  at  the  Thornes'.  It  was  the  last  evening 
they  were  to  spend  there ;  and  the  music  very  much 
delighted  the  girls.  The  evening  for  the  Glee  Club 
concert  brought  a  pouring  rain ;  but  the  little  Lyceum 
Hall,  always  too  small  for  these  entertainments,  was 
crammed  full  of  youth  and  beauty ;  and  the  delight  at 
the  songs  was,  as  usual,  most  enthusiastic. 

Mr.  Cartier  was  pleased  to  devote  himself  during  these 
June  days  to  this  party  of  friends ;  and  it  soon  became 
apparent  to  all  to  whom  his  attentions  were  especially 
offered ;  for  he  was  even  more  devoted  to  Kate  Went- 
worth  than  Huntingdon  had  ever  been.  His  gallantry, 
though  always  the  pink  of  politeness  and  decorum,  was 
something  essentially  different  from  what  had  ever  been 
tendered  the  girl  before.  It  indicated  plainly,  though 
perhaps  in  a  manner  too  subtle  for  analysis,  the  social 
school  in  which  the  young  gentleman  had  been  reared. 
It  was  almost  impossible  to  refuse  his  attentions  with- 


haskill's  spread. 


859 


out  positive  rudeness ;  and  Kate  accepted  them  and  en- 
joyed tliem  to  a  degree  and  in  a  manner  which  alarmed 
some  of  her  friends  a  little,  and  harrowed  poor  Villiers 
cruelly  enough,  though  with  the  exception  of  vouch- 
safing one  of  his  grave  looks  now  and  then  he  made  no 
sign. 

Others  were,  however,  not  so  delicate,  or  at  least 
saw  their  duty  in  the  premises  differently ;  and  one  day 
Kate  was  surprised  at  receiving  a  little  private  advice 
from  her  friend  Haskill. 

"  That  Cartier  is  getting  to  be  a  fast  friend  of  yours," 
he  said  to  her,  suddenly. 

"  Hardly  a  friend,  Mr.  Haskill,  though  he  is  very 
polite  and  entertaining." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  the  Senior, 
quaking  inwardly. 

"What?  —  that  he  is  polite  and  entertaining?"  and 
she  laughed  brightly. 

"  No :  that  he  is  not  a  friend  of  yours.  He  isn't  fit 
to  be  any  girl's  friend.  He  is  worse  than  the  other  one, 
if  possible." 

Kate  flushed  with  anger,  and  her  blue  eyes  gleamed. 
She  looked  at  the  little  fellow  by  her  side,  whose  heart 
sank  into  his  very  boots  :  he  was  so  thoroughly  fright- 
ened that  she  relented  at  once.  It  was  not  an  hour 
since  she  had  heard  something  of  the  kind  hinted  at  by 
her  best  friend,  Mary  Eldredge. 

"  I  thought  you  couldn't  know,"  said  Haskill,  humbly, 
by  way  of  apology,  "  though  of  course  it  wasn't  my 
business  to  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  it  was,"  said  Kate,  graciously,  for  her  anger 
had  quite  vanished,  "  and  I  thank  ^ou  too.    Of  course 


360 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


I  know  him  only  as  I  meet  him.  He  is  received  every- 
where, and  he  is  very  polite  and  entertaining ;  though  I 
have  always  thought  him  a  very  simple  person." 

"  Well,"  said  Haskill,  in  his  own  peculiar  manner,  for 
his  courage  returned  at  the  prospect  of  a  bit  of  fresh 
gossip,  "  perhaps  he  is  simple,  but  J  don't  believe  it.  I 
know  he  is  invited  everywhere,  and  made  much  of;  but 
it's  a  shame  that  it  is  so,  for  everybod}'^  knows  all  about 
him  here  in  Cambridge.  I  can't  altogether  understand 
it,  unless  it  is  because  people  don't  realize  what  a 
thoroughly  good-for-nothing  fellow  he  is.  He  has  good 
looks  and  assurance,  and  plenty  of  money,  and  some- 
thing of  the  foreign  way  about  him  that  is  taking,  I 
suppose,  for  he  has  been  the  rage  among  the  Cambridge 
girls  ever  since  he  has  been  here ;  and  yet  if  one  of  us 
were  to  be  guilty  of  his  iniquities,  it  would  fare  hard 
with  him." 

"  You  are  a  httle  severe  on  poor  Mr.  Cartier." 

"  No,  I  am  not ;  and  if  I  could  only  talk  to  you  as  I 
could  to  your  brother,  you  would  say  that  I  am  not. 
They  say  he  has  spent,  in  the  six  or  seven  months  that 
he  has  been  here,  over  twenty  thousand  dollars." 

Kate  looked  her  surprise. 

"  He  gave  a  supper  to  the  '  Elise  Holt  Troupe,'  that 
cost  a  small  fortune ;  and  that  is  the  least  questionable 
of  his  expenditures.  He  isn't  a  fit  companion  for  any- 
body." 

Kate  was  silent. 

"  I  think  the  worst  feature  of  it  is  that  he  seems  to 
be  unconscious  that  he  is  doing  any  thing  out  of  the 
way.  He  has  grown  up  so,  and  it  all  comes  as  natural  to 
him  as  breathing ;  and  that  accounts  for  his  being  such 


haskill's  spread. 


361 


a  mighty  innocent-looking  fellow.  He  has  fitted  up  a 
place,  — '  The  Den,'  they  call  it,  —  he  and  Huntingdon 
and  a  couple  of  law-students ;  and  they  say  it's  a  regular 
gambling-place,  and  that,  if  the  police  knew  of  it,  there 
would  be  trouble.  I  haven't  been  there  myself,  for 
they  are  mighty  careful  who  goes  in,  as  of  course 
they  want  to  keep  it  select  and  secret ;  but  it  is  no 
secret  to  any  one  in  the  college.  But  I  suppose,  the 
worse  he  is,  the  more  he  will  be  admired ;  it  is  so  roman- 
tic to  be  almost  a  Russian,  and  to  have  no  end  of  money 
to  spend,  and  —  and  to  be  wicked,"  and  the  little  fellow 
sighed  in  a  way  that  was  comical. 

Just  then  who  should  be  ushered  into  the  room  but 
this  wicked  Mr.  Cartier  himself!  At  the  same  time 
Haskill  departed. 

It  was  almost  impossible  for  a  lady,  looking  at  him  as 
he  stood  there,  to  believe  much  to  his  discredit:  he 
was  the  very  picture  of  fresh,  innocent,  manly  youth,  a 
splendid  figure,  ruddy  face,  honest  blue  eyes,  light, 
curling  hair  and  whiskers.  I  think  Kate  was  not  very 
well  pleased  at  what  her  two  friends  had  told  her. 
Henceforth  she  must  needs  regard  him  with  suspicion, 
while  before  she  had  experienced  only  enjoyment  in  his 
company,  regarding  him,  as  she  had  said,  as  an  entertain- 
ing young  man  who  was  not  over-supplied  with  brains. 
Could  he  be  so  entirely  worthless  ?  She  did  not  believe 
it,  though  her  confidence  had  been  shaken;  and  her 
manner  lacked  its  usual  cordiality,  as  the  young  student 
noticed  with  surprise. 

"  How  do  you  come  on  with  your  law-studies,  Mr. 
Cartier  ?  "  she  said  to  him,  suddenly. 

"  Oh,  ah !  well,  not  so  very  famously,"  said  Mr. 


362 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Cartier,  rather  taken  back  at  the  question ;  for  it  was  not 
often  that  law-studies  were  the  theme  of  his  discourse. 

"  Do  you  find  it  pleasant  reading  Blackstone  ?  I 
believe  you  call  it  'reading,'  don't  you?"  Kate  con- 
tinued, with  her  pleasantest  smile. 

"  Oh,  well,  no.  I  am  not  reading  Blackstone's.  I  — 
I  am  reading  Kent's.  You  see,  I  am  not  studying  law 
exactly,  but  only  getting  up  international  law  a  little  ; 
and  as  soon  as  I  have  read  my  two  years  here,  I  am  to 
have  any  position  I  desire  on  the  Russian  legation  at 
St.  Petersburg.  Prof.  Smith  advised  me  not  to  begin 
with  Blackstone's,  but  to  take  Kent's;  and  I  believe 
Kent's  is  altogether  the  best." 

"  Is  there  much  of  it  ?  "  was  Kate's  next  interrogatory. 

"  Four  volumes,"  responded  the  future  employee  of 
the  United  States ;  "  but  only  the  first  volume  is  about 
international  law.  I  —  I  read  some  whenever  I  can,  and 
I  am  almost  half  through." 

"  Half  through  with  Kent?  " 

"  Oh,  no  :  half  through  with  the  first  volume.  You 
see,  it's  more  a  matter  of  form,  after  all,  than  any  thing 
else.  I  shall  complete  the  regular  course  at  the  Law 
School  in  two  years,  and  have  my  diploma,  whether  I 
read  any  or  not ;  and,  you  know,  I  am  not  obliged  to  do 
any  thing,  and  only  came  here  to  please  my  father." 

"And  the  lectures,"  said  Kate,  graciously,  for  she 
seemed  determined  to  call  the  young  man  to  account, 

do  you  find  them  pleasant  ?  " 

"  The  lectures  were  such  a  fearful  bore,"  returned 
Cartier,  "  that  I  gave  them  up  long  ago ;  but  I  shall  get 
my  diploma  just  the  same.  Oh,  I  am  bound  to  get  my 
diploma.    I  promised  Gen.  King  and  my  father  that  I 


haskill's  speead. 


863 


would  do  that.  My  father  sent  me  to  Siberia,  to  take 
charge  of  the  business  there.  It  was  a  fearful  place  ; 
and  things  didn't  go  well,  as  he  soon  discovered.  1 
was  three  hundred  thousand  francs  in  debt  in  about 
nine  months.  My  father  was  fearfully  angry  ;  brought 
me  back  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  gave  me  no  money  at 
all  for  almost  six  months.  Then  I  went  to  Paris  on 
some  business  for  him ;  and  I  got  very  badly  in  debt 
there  ;  and  I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of 
me,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Gen.  King.  He  interceded 
for  me  again;  and  my  father  paid  my  debts,  on  the 
express  agreement  that  I  should  study  hard  for  two 
years  here,  and  get  my  diploma.  I  promised  to  do  this, 
and  of  course  I  must.  But  I  can  get  it  just  as  well 
without  going  to  the  lectures;  and,  indeed,  I  hardly 
find  time  to  go. 

"But  that  don't  trouble  me,"  he  continued,  with  an 
expression  of  serious  though tfuln ess  altogether  foreign 
to  his  face.  "  I  mean  about  my  diploma ;  but  I  don't 
see  how  I  am  going  to  stay  here,  unless  my  father  gives 
me  some  more  money ;  and  I  am  fearfully  afraid  he 
won't  give  me  any  thing  more.  He  gave  me  my  money 
for  the  two  years,  a  very  good  sum,  three  times  as 
much  as  Gen.  King  said  was  sufficient ;  and  declared 
that,  whatever  happened,  I  should  not  have  any  more 
till  the  two  years  expired ;  and  I  am  afraid  he  will  keep 
his  word,  unless  Gen.  King  can  intercede  for  me  again. 
My  father  will  be  so  angrj^,  I  fear  it  will  be  of  no  use," 
he  added,  ruefully. 

"It  seems  almost  incredible  that  you  could  need 
more  money,"  said  Kate,  with  a  dash  of  scorn  in  her 
manner,  which  was  entirely  lost  upon  the  student. 


364 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


"  It  is  all  gone,"  lie  returned,  simply ;  and  Yilliers 
and  Will  Adams  entering  the  room,  the  <![uestion  was 
not  discussed  further. 

It  was  Class  Day  evening.  The  great  wish  of  Haskill's 
heart  had  been  accomplished.  Mrs.  Wentworth  and 
Kate  had  been  his  guests  since  morning  ;  and  there  had 
been  no  more  thoroughly  happy  man  in  the  college  than 
he.  Kate  had  entered  so  heartily  into  the  pleasures  of 
the  day,  that  her  enjoyment  had  been  something  good 
to  behold.  With  rare  tact  she  had  turned  away  one 
after  another  of  the  admirers  who  had  sought  her  for 
the  dances  or  the  promenade,  and  had  saved  her  favors 
for  the  almost  friendless  Senior.  She  made  his  spread 
the  triumph  of  the  day,  the  most  frequented  of  all ; 
and  the  little  man,  who  had  indeed  been  most  thought- 
ful and  kind,  and  omitted  no  possible  attention  to  the 
ladies,  had  fairly  revelled  in  the  glory  of  the  occasion. 

It  was  night:  the  festivities  were  well-nigh  done, 
and  the  day  which  crowns  the  student's  college  life 
with  its  joys  and  festivities  had  already  drawn  to  a 
close.  A  dusky  circle  was  gathered  in  the  gloom 
around  the  window  in  Haskill's  room  in  Holworthy, 
resting  after  the  excitement  and  fatigue  of  the  day, 
talking  over  the  varied  incidents,  listening  to  the  tread 
of  many  feet  underneath  the  elms  below,  the  hum  of 
voices,  and  the  ringing  songs  of  the  Glee  Club  that 
from  time  to  time  burst  forth  from  the  stand  in  front 
of  the  old  hall. 

Perhaps  even  Rose  Thorne  felt  the  shadow  of  the 
parting  which  was  so  swiftly  drawing  near  to  her ;  for 
she  said  to  Haskill,  "  You  must  feel  very  sorry  to  think 


haskill's  speead. 


365 


that  your  college  clays  are  ended,  and  you  are  to  leave 
Cambridge  so  soon." 

"  Sorry  to  leave  Cambridge  !  "  exclaimed  tlie  Senior, 
brusquely.  "  Well,  I  am  not,  and  that's  the  truth.  I 
don't  see  how  that  could  be  possible.  I  consider  Cam- 
bridge the  meanest  place  I  have  ever  had  the  fortune  to 
abide  in  in  my  short  existence  of  twenty-two  jenTS  and 
three  months." 

There  was  no  little  mirth  at  the  young  man's  frankly 
expressed  opinion.  Mr.  Hasldll  is  as  peculiar  as  he  is 
decided  in  his  sentiments  regarding  Cambridge,"  said 
Kate. 

"Well,  maybe  I  am  peculiar,"  returned  that  gentle- 
man, stoutly  ;  "  but  I  am  honest.  Farewell,  ye  muddy 
streets  and  foggy  mornings,  ye  clouds  of  dust,  and 
droves  of  squealing  pigs  and  bleating  sheep  and  lowing 
herds  !  Farewell,  O  bell,  thou  that  hast  for  four  years 
summoned  us  when  we  could  but  obey !  .  In  vain  we 
tried  to  drag  thee  down  from  thy  belfry.  Farewell,  O 
Thayer  Club !  I  shall  nevermore  regale  me  on  thy 
familiar  viands.  'No:  if  there  is  one  thing  that  I  am 
thankful  for,  it  is  that  I  can  shake  off  the  dust  of  Cam- 
bridge from  my  feet  forever." 

"  But  you  must  be  fond  of  some  of  your  classmates," 
said  Miss  Eldredge,  seriously. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Haskill,  with  equal  seriousness. 
"  Some  of  them  are  well  enough ;  but,  to  tell  the  honest 
truth,  there  are  hardly  six  of  them  that  I  really  know. 
No,  I  have  no  regrets  of  any  nature.  I  am  going 
to  the  medical  school  next  year.  The  old  gent  has 
set  his  heart  on  my  being  a  doctor ;  and  as  it  makes 
no  sort  of  difference  to  me,  I  am  going  to  accommodate 


366 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


him  as  well  as  I  can.  They  say  that  every  thing  is 
different  there ;  that  there  is  no  compulsion,  and  so 
more  honest  work  is  done ;  that  you  can  speak  to  a 
professor  without  being  set  down  for  a  toady,  whicli  is 
something  that  can't  happen  here  ;  and  that  a  man  can 
dress  as  he  chooses,  and  spend  as  little  money  as  he  sees 
fit,  without  being  called  a  scrub,  which  can't  be  said  of 
the  conditions  here." 

"  Do  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  a  '  scrub,'  "  said  Mr. 
Cartier,  softly,  from  his  place  in  the  darkness.  "  I  have 
heard  the  word  used  very  often  here,  without  quite 
understanding  what  it  means." 

This  was  too  much  for  Lewis's  gravity,  and  he 
laughed  in  spite  of  himself,  while  Huntingdon  quoted 
in  a  loAV  tone,  but  still  quite  distinctly  enough,  "  Si 
monumentum  quceris,  circumspieey 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Cartier,"  said  Haskill,  a  little  bitterly, 
"  Mr.  Huntingdon  has  answered  your  question  as  well 
as  it  could  possibly  be  answered.  If  you  want  to  know 
what  a  scrub  is  like,  you  had  better  take  a  good  look  at 
me  the  next  time  you  meet  me  by  daylight.  I  am  a 
scrub,  for  I  don't  come  up  to  the  Harvard  standard. 
It  would  grieve  me  more  if  I  were  not  in  such  very 
respectable  company;  but  I  take  courage  when  such 
men  as  Villiers  are  lumped  in  the  same  lot." 

At  this,  both  Sam  and  Adams  laughed,  and  Hunting- 
don was  silent. 

"  I  wonder  where  Mr.  Villiers  can  be,"  queried  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  perhaps  with  a  view  to  turning  the  conver- 
sation into  a  pleasanter  channel,  although  she  did  not 
quite  understand  it  all.  "We  have  hardly  seen  him 
to-day,  and  I  have  feared  that  he  might  be  ill." 


haskill's  spread. 


367 


"He  is  well  enough:  I  can  voucli  for  that,"  inter- 
posed Huntingdon,  quickly.  "  There  is  an  annual, 
Monday;  and  he  is  undoubtedly  digging  for  fear  that 
somebody  may  answer  one  or  two  questions  more  than 
he." 

"  That  is  putting  it  a  little  strong,  chum  :  you  i:now 
the  annual  is  a  week  from  Monday,  instead  of  1  Ion- 
day,"  said  Sam,  with  a  good-natured  laugh,  in  wl^ich 
Adams  joined. 

"  It  grows  late,  and  I  fear  we  must  be  keeping  you 
gentlemen  from  your  studies  too,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth,  simply ;  and  she  turned  to  Kate. 

At  this  Sam's  mirth  was  redoubled,  and  all  the  gen- 
tlemen save  Huntingdon  seemed  to  enjoy  some  pleasing 
thought  very  much. 

"  I  must  say  I  can't  see  what  reason  there  is  for 
laughing  at  a  young  man  for  attending  to  his  duties," 
said  Kate,  a  little  sharply.  She  had  not  seen  Villiers 
all  day,  except  for  half  an  hour  in  the  morning,  and 
was  vexed  with  him  for  keeping  aloof  at  such  a  time, 
as  she  felt  he  had  no  right  to  do.  But  she  nevertheless 
took  up  arms  for  him  the  moment  he  was  attacked,  as, 
indeed,  she  would  have  done  for  any  friend. 

"  We  were  not  making  merry  at  Villiers's  expense. 
Miss  Wentworth,"  said  Adams,  slowly,  after  a  little 
silence  ;  "  and,  indeed,  any  mirth  is  ill-timed.  —  Sam, 
you  know  where  Villiers  is,  and  whether  he  is  digging 
for  an  annual  or  not." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  I  do,"  returned  Sam  gravely  and 
slowly. 

"  I  am  going  to  inform  our  friends,  and  especially 
Huntingdon,  why  Villiers  deserts  the  festivities  of  the 


368 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


day,  though  I  can  hardly  make  the  statement  without 
disgracing  myself." 

"  Why,  what  can  it  be,  Will  ?  "  said  Miss  Eldredge, 
in  a  low,  anxious  tone. 

"  Shall  I  go  on,  Sam  ?  " 

"  Yes."  All  listened  intently  to  Adams's  recital,  sit- 
ting there  in  the  gloom,  with  no  sound  save  the  murmur 
of  distant  voices,  and  the  sound  of  footfalls  echoing  in 
the  quadrangle. 

"  You  know  Cole  of  our  class  ?  "  and  Adams  turned 
to  Huntingdon. 

"  Yes,  I  know  who  he  is,"  returned  that  gentleman  ; 
"  but,"  he  added,  sarcastically,  "  I  have  never  cultivated 
his  acquaintance." 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  continued  Adams.  "He  is 
one  of  the  scrubs  of  the  class ;  that  is,  any  one  would 
say  so  thoughtlessly,  and  perhaps  some  might  think  so 
after  acquaintance  with  him.  There  were  very  few  of 
us  who  knew  him  :  you  did,  Sam  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Sam.  Now  all  was  silent  both  within 
and  without. 

"  You  have  noticed  "  (again  Adams  addressed  Hunt- 
ington) "  that  Cole  has  been  absent  from  recitations 
for  quite  a  number  of  days  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Huntingdon,  shortly :  "  I  have  noticed 
nothing  at  all  about  him." 

"  This  man,"  continued  Adams,  "  entered  our  class 
last  fall.  He  was  a  very  modest,  unassuming  gentle- 
man, unknown  to  everybody ;  and  as  he  wore  very  plain 
clothes,  and  attended  strictly  to  his  own  affairs,  no  one 
cared  to  know  him  or  to  notice  him,  except  to  wonder 
at  the  recitations  he  made,  which  were  simply  perfect. 


haskill's  speead. 


369 


WTienever  he  was  called  up,  we  used  to  lie  back,  and 
laugh  and  wink  at  each  other  ;  for  he  would  go  on  with 
a  translation  as  long  as  he  was  permitted;  and  there 
seemed  to  he  no  such  thing  possible  as  pumping  him 
dry,  no  matter  how  many  questions  were  asked  hhn. 
Well,  it  seems  that  Yilliers  was  the  first  to  hunt  him 
up;  and  he  found  him  living  down  in  Divinity  Hall 
(why,  I  hardly  knew  there  was  such  a  place),  and  so 
very  poor,  that  he  was  simply  starving  himself,  trying 
to  live  on  eighty  cents  a  week.  Just  think  of  it  for 
a  minute,  —  a  gentleman  living,  or  rather  dying,  on 
eighty  cents  a  week  !  I  believe  he  went  through  mtich 
of  the  cold  weather  T^dthout  an  overcoat  or  any  thing 
like  a  substitute  for  one ;  while  there  were  scores  of  fel- 
lows in  the  college,  and  even  in  the  class,  spending  hun- 
dreds and  even  thousands  of  dollars  worse  than  foolishly. 
Why,  my  bill  just  for  cigars  has  been  over  three  hun- 
dred dollars  this  term ;  and  I  am  no  smoker  either. 
But  Yilhers,  when  he  found  he  Avas  diffident  about  tak- 
ing any  aid  from  him,  brought  his  case  before  the  doctor, 
so  that  he  had  money  enough  supplied  him  to  pro\dde 
the  necessaries  of  life,  all  that  he  could  be  induced  to 
accept.  Yilliers  cultivated  his  friendship,  and  took  as 
many  of  the  fellows  down  to  see  him  as  he  could  pre- 
vail on  to  go,  and  did  all  that  was  in  his  power  to  make 
it  easy  and  pleasant  for  him;  though  he  knew  that  Cole 
was  sure  to  take  the  first  place  on  the  rank-list  away 
from  him.  Sam  here,  used  to  go  and  see  him  pretty 
often,  and  so  did  Lyman  and  Longstreet.  I  told  you 
that  I  could  not  tell  the  storv  ^vithout  clisoTace  to 
myself.  I  never  entered  his  room  till  last  ]\Jonday." 
Here  a  soft,  white  hand  was  put  into  his  own.  It 


370 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


was  commonly  enough  remarked  that  what  a  girl  like 
Mary  Eldredge  could  see  in  Will  Adams,  to  make  him 
worthy  of  her  regard,  was  a  mystery ;  but  perhaps  her 
perception  was  not  so  much  at  fault  as  was  supposed. 
"  Go  on.  Will,"  she  half  whispered. 

"  There  is  very  little  more.  About  ten  days  or  two 
weeks  ago  we  began  to  miss  Cole  from  recitation ;  but 
no  one  thought  much  about  it.  Monday  I  heard  that 
he  was  very  sick  with  typhoid  fever;  that  was  really 
almost  the  first  I  knew  about  him.  I  met  Lyman  by 
chance,  as  he  was  going  down  to  see  how  he  was,  and 
he  told  me  what  I  have  told  you;  and  I  went  down  to 
the  room  with  him.  It  was  enough  to  stir  the  pity  in 
any  one,  to  go  into  that  room,  and  see  how  that  noble 
man  had  lived  and  worked ;  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
sight  of  his  pale,  worn  face  as  I  saw  it  Monday  afternoon. 
It  seems  he  had  been  sick  three  or  four  days  before  any 
one  discovered  it.  It  was  Villiers  that  found  him  ;  and 
he  and  Sam  took  care  of  him  for  almost  a  week  before 
the  rest  of  us  knew  about  it. 

"  Well,  those  first  three  or  four  days  were  what  set- 
tled the  matter  against  him.  Villiers  called  in  a  doctor 
immediately ;  but  he  shook  his  head.  '  If  I  had  been 
there  at  first,'  he  said,  '  I  might  have  thrown  the  fever 
off;  but  he  seems  completely  run  down,  and  I  see  no 
chance  for  him  whatever.  All  that  can  be  done  is  to 
nurse  him  and  care  for  him ; '  and  that  has  been  done 
tenderly  and  carefully  of  late.  Some  of  the  fellows 
have  been  with  him  night  and  day,  and  he  has  had  the 
best  possible  attention.  They  sent  for  his  mother  as 
noon  as  her  address  could  be  obtained." 

"  We  all  know  where  Mr.  Villiers  is  now,"  said  Kate. 


haskill's  speead. 


371 


Yes :  he  and  Longstreet  have  been  with  him  since 
the  forenoon.  He  is  delirious  most  of  the  time,  and 
seems  to  prefer  Villiers  to  any  one  else ;  and  Charley 
said  that  Class  Day  was  nothing  to  him,  and  insisted  on 
staying  with  Villiers;  and  they  are  down  there  now,  I 
suppose." 

"  Has  the  young  man's  mother  come  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Wentworth,  rising. 

"  She  had  not  this  evening,"  replied  Adams. 

"  She  had  not  an  hour  ago,"  said  Sam. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  this  before  ?  "  and  she 
took  Sam's  arm.  "  I  must  go  to  your  sick  friend  at 
once ; "  and  the  dusky  group  around  the  window  dis- 
solved into  the  inner  darkness  of  the  room,  and  Has- 
kill's Class  Day  was  at  an  end. 

On  the  morrow  Rose  Thorne  was  to  sail  over  seas  for 
a  sojourn  of  perhaps  two  years  in  a  foreign  land,  and 
she  whose  image  had  been  for  a  year  so  cherished  by 
our  student  was  to  withdraw  herself  from  his  mortal 
vision  for  that  interminable  period.  He  had  secui-ed 
the  boon  of  driving  her  home  that  Class  Day  night, 
though  he  could  hardly  realize,  as  he  sat  by  her  side  on 
the  sultry,  starlit,  summer  evening,  that  his  last  moments 
alone  with  her  were  fast  slipping  away. 

Although  his  companion  was  so  entirely  composed, 
the  young  man  had  been  in  a  fever  of  excitement, 
these  latter  days,  and  was  haggard  and  worn,  —  that 
rosy,  hearty  young  fellow.  Curious  thoughts,  foreign 
to  the  hour  and  his  purpose,  crowded  through  his 
brain.  He  thought  of  his  sick  and  perhaps  even  now 
dying  classmate  ;  and  his  own  hope  seemed  to  burn 


372 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAKD. 


with  scarcely  more  vigor  than  that  feeble,  fluttering 
flame  of  life  down  in  Divinity.  He  thougtit  of  his 
two  years  more  of  college,  of  the  work  to  be  there- 
after entered  upon,  and  of  life's  battle  to  be  won. 
He  thought  of  his  friend  so  perfect  in  his  self-control, 
so  steadfast  in  his  devotion  to  dutj^ ;  and  contrasted  his 
strong  manhood  with  his  own  selfish,  impetuous,  almost 
foolish  desires.  Rose  had  her  thoughts  as  well :  per- 
haps, however,  the  fatigue  consequent  upon  the  enjoy- 
ment and  excitement  of  the  day  made  her  content  to 
suffer  the  silence  to  remain  unbroken ;  and  thus  they 
drove  on. 

Two  hours  later  he  assisted  Rose  to  alight  from  the 
carriage,  at  her  own  door.  She  stood  on  the  steps  a 
moment,  waving  him  a  good-night,  a  sad,  white,  delicate 
figure,  in  the  light  of  the  weird  moon  which  had  just 
risen,  oh,  so  lovely !  and  then  the  door  closed  on  her ; 
and  he  felt  that  he  was  alone  in  the  world,  —  alone, 
in  spite  of  mother,  sister,  and  friends,  as  he  had  never 
dreamed  a  human  being  could  be. 

How  much  of  hope  and  bitterness,  of  passion  and 
disappointment,  of  success  and  mortification,  ay,  of 
love  too,  and  a  deeper,  stronger  life,  would  come  to  him 
before  he  met  her  again,  he  knew  not,  and  would 
not  believe  if  he  knew.  He  went  forth  into  the  night, 
so  calm  and  still,  to  bear  his  first  great  disappointment. 

All  through  that  beautiful  June  afternoon,  Villiers 
and  Longstreet  had  watched  by  the  sick  man's  bedside, 
and  ministered  to  him  with  woman's  tenderness.  The 
soft  breeze  of  summer  had  breathed  through  the  room, 
and  at  times  the  faint  sound  of  music  from  the  distant 


haskill's  spread. 


373 


festivities  had  floated  hither  on  the  gentle  air,  telling  of 
beauty  and  youth,  dancing,  gayety  and  hapjDiness ;  but 
these  three,  the  li^dng  and  the  dying,  had  no  thoughts 
fop  scenes  like  those.  The  long  summer  day  had 
waned ;  and  with  the  setting  sun  had  come  faint  echoes 
of  the  ringing  cheers  which  told  that  the  Seniors  had 
met  together  for  the  last  time.  The  mantle  of  night 
fell  gently,  and  one  by  one  the  stars  shone  out.  The 
far-ofi  strains  of  the  band  sounded  faintly  and  sweetly 
in  the  sick-chamber.  The  familiar  songs  of  the  Glee 
Club,  indistinctly  heard,  told  that  the  hours  were 
creeping  on.  Then  a  ministering  angel  had  come  to 
soothe  the  last  hours  of  the  dying  man,  with  that 
tender  care  which  a  woman  alone  can  give ;  and  there 
had  been  three  watchers  instead  of  two.  While  the 
riotous  students  were  holding  high  revel  over  their  class 
punch  in  the  distant  hall,  and  those  scores  of  pretty 
girls  were  sweetly  dreaming  of  their  partners  of  the 
day  before,  and  Sam  was  ]Dleading  his  unsuccessful  suit 
with  Rose  Thorne ;  when  the  tumult  and  strife  and 
hurry  and  bustle  of  the  great  world  was  at  its  lowest 
ebb,  as  the  first  cool  breath  of  the  morning  was  wafted 
into  the  room,  —  the  great  mystery  of  life  and  death 
was  solved  for  one  more  soul.  He  went  forth  to  meet 
his  future,  to  a  revelation  which  to  his  pure  spirit  could 
be  only  good,  whatever  it  may  bring  of  weal  or  of  woe 
to  those  who  are  weak,  uncertain,  and  wavering. 


XXIII. 


THE  JUNIOK  YEAR. 

The  Junior  year  used  to  be  a  pleasant  resting-place 
between  the  grinding  work  required  of  the  Sophomores 
and  the  spirited  effort  which  the  Seniors  are  wont  to  put 
forth  ;  the  pleasantest  by  far  of  the  four,  —  "  the  loafing 
year,"  as  Haskill  had  said.  It  was  at  this  point  in  the 
curriculum  that  elective  studies  first  made  their  appear- 
ance, affording,  to  a  limited  degree,  an  opportunity  for 
the  indiyidual  tastes  of  different  men  to  follow  out  an 
inclination  for  classics,  or  mathematics,  or  the  sciences. 
It  not  unfrequently  used  to  happen  that  the  choice  of 
electives  gave  a  man  a  very  considerable  amount  of  leis- 
ure. There  might  be  three  days  in  the  week  with  only 
two  recitations,  possibly  one  or  two  days  with  only  one. 
Therefore  it  is,  that  there  is  less  to  chronicle  of  those 
easy,  idle  days,  and  that  there  used  to  be  fewer  dis- 
tinctive features  of  this  year  than  of  any  other. 

A  group  of  our  Juniors  had  gathered,  one  noon  early 
in  the  term,  under  the  broad  elms  in  front  of  HoUis, 
and  were  in  right  merry  mood.  Longstreet  was  talk- 
ing, laughing,  and  gesticulating,  as  was  his  wont  when 
well  pleased.  He  and  Sam  had  just  come  from  their 
recitation  in  elective  Greek ;  and  he  was  telling  the 
company  what  a  funny  time  they  had  had  there. 

374 


THE  JUNIOE  YEAR. 


375 


"  You  see,  fellows,  it  is  just  the  very  best  elective  of 
all :  there  is  no  trouble  of  preparing  a  lesson.  We  trot 
out  our  '  ponies  '  in  the  recitation-room,  right  under  old 
Sophy's  nose,  and  squii^t  every  time:  and  the  'Athenian' 
is  perfectly  satisfied.  If  he  propounds  any  conundrum 
about  the  construction,  (as  he  doesn't  often.)  give  a  good 
guess,  and  you  are  all  right.  There  isn't  a  man  of  u:; 
all  that  ever  pretended  to  know  any  thing  about  Greek, 
except  Wentworth  :  and  Sophy  deads  him  regularly." 

"  That's  so  I  "  said  Sam.  glumly.  "  The  less  you 
know,  the  better  you  get  on  with  him.  He  is  down  on 
'  my  S}uitax.*  and  fairly  scowls  at  you  when  you  give  a 
rule  out  of  it.  I  believe  I'll  petition  to  change  my 
elective.'' 

He's  just  been  roughing  Went^vorth."  continued 
Longstreet^  gleefully.  He  had  him  up  to-day,  and  the 
young  man  made  a  splendid  squirt  :  had  dug  it  all  out 
with  lexicon  and  grammar.  But  old  Sophy  looked 
glum  enough.  *  "Why  did  they  use  the  aorist  optative 
in  this  place.  ]\Ir.  Wentworth  ?  '  "  said  Longstreet.  mim- 
icking to  the  life  the  broken  English  of  the  professor. 
"  Sam  got  off  a  learned  discjuisition,  inspired  by  '  my 
Syntax.'  that  would  have  covered  him  with  glory  last 
year.  We  all  lay  back,  and  grinned  and  v^unked  at 
each  other,  for  we  knew  what  was  comings :  and  vou 
had  better  believe  the  old  fellow  looked  black.  '  So  I 
^"0  I  XO  I  —  Mr.  Williamson  :  '  and  Sam  sat  down,  mad 
enough  too.  Well.  Williamson  knows  some  Greek :  so 
he  gave  a  rule,  and  Sophy  deaded  him  :  and  saw  me 
laughing,  and  called  me  up.  '  Mr.  Longstreet,  why  did 
they  use  the  aorist  optative  here  ?  '  You  see,  I  had 
heard  all  about  the  old  fellow's  dodges :  so  I  merely 


376 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


looked  wise,  and  said  I  supposed  it  was  because  they 
wanted  to.  '  Right ! '  said  he ;  and  he  nodded  most 
benignantly  at  me.  '  It  was  because  they  did,  because 
they  wanted  to.    Very  right.'  " 

Of  course  everybody  laughed  at  this  original  way  of 
teaching  Greek  syntax. 

"  Tell  them  the  rest  of  it,"  said  Sam :  "  don't  stop 
there." 

"  Yes,  by  Jove !  the  rest  of  it  is  the  best  of  it,"  said 
Longstreet,  in  no  wise  disconcerted.  "  I  was  for  sitting 
down  while  I  was  in  luck ;  but  Sophy  told  me  to  go  on 
with  the  translation :  so  I  squirted  out  of  a  pony  leaf 
in  my  book  till  he  stopped  me.  The  word  '  lion  '  oc- 
curred in  the  text.  '  Mr.  Longstreet,'  said  he,  and  the 
old  cove's  eyes  twinkled,  '  how  came  there  to  be  lions 
in  the  Peloponnesus  ?  ' 

"  That  was  a  poser.  '  I  suppose  they  must  have  swum 
across  from  Africa,'  I  said. 

" '  No,'  and  he  shook  his  head  ominously. 

"  '  Perhaps  they  came  around  by  the  way  of  Asia 
Minor  and  the  Straits.' 

"  '  No,'  with  a  blacker  look  than  before. 

" '  Then  they  must  have  escaped  from  a  menagerie.' 

" '  No,'  and  he  looked  like  a  small  thundercloud. 
Well,  I  gave  it  up. 

" '  There  were  no  lions  in  the  Peloponnesus.'  He  had 
me  there,  didn't  he  ?  " 

This  old  professor,  a  native  Greek,  — "  the  Athen- 
ian," as  they  used  to  call  him  in  distinction  from  the 
younger  Greek  professor,  who  was  known  as  "  the  new 
Athenian,"  —  used  to  be  one  of  the  institutions  of  the 
college.    Deservedly  a  great  favorite  with  the  students, 


THE  JUKEOE  YEAE. 


377 


he  was  at  the  same  time  the  most  peculiar  of  college  offi- 
cials. He  was  a  queer-looking  old  fellow,  short  of  stat- 
ure, with  curling,  iron-gray  hair,  long,  grizzled  beard,  and 
piercing  eyes.  He  invariably  appeared  in  a  short  blue 
cloak  and  tight-fitting  blue  cap.  He  lived  entirely  iii 
his  room  in  Holworthy,  devoting  every  hour  of  time 
that  could  be  spared  from  his  duties  to  his  dictionary. 
They  used  in  Sam's  day  to  tell  many  funny  stories 
about  him,  and  many  which  bore  witness  to  his  good- 
ness of  heart  and  friendly  disposition  toward  the  stu- 
dent. A  few  years,  and  his  place  know  him  no 
more  ;  but  he  will  never  be  forgotten. 

By  this  stage  of  the  curriculum,  the  different  sets  of 
men  in  a  class  can  be  readily  distinguished  fi^om  each 
other.  There  are  the  digs,""  less  kno^^Ti  and  esteemed, 
and  caring  less  for  aught  save  study,  than  any  others. 
There  are  the  "  scrubs,"  whose  numerous  ranks  contain 
some  of  the  best  and  most  talented  members  of  the  class. 
It  is  hard  to  tell  just  what  makes  a  man  a  scrub  at  Har- 
vard. It  is  not  the  lack  of  money  altogether,  for  some 
very  poor  students  are  sometimes  very  much  liked  by 
their  classmates ;  though  probably  no  man  who  had  an 
abundance  of  money,  and  spent  it  freely,  was  ever  con- 
sidered a  scrub.  Nor  does  it  depend  on  scholarship,  for 
a  scrub  may  be  the  first  or  the  last  man  in  the  class  ;  nor 
on  refinement  altogether,  for  some  of  the  roughest  speci- 
mens of  the  student  are  sometimes  the  most  popular. 
In  very  many  cases,  —  in  most,  perhaps, —  where  a  man 
is  coimted  a  scrub,  it  is  his  misfortune  rather  than  his 
fault.  He  in  some  way  makes  an  unfavorable  impres- 
sion at  the  outset ;  and  then  it  goes  wrong  with  him 


878 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


all  through  the  four  years.  There  was  Haskill,  a 
thoroughly  good  fellow.  One  who  knew  him  well 
could  not  help  liking  him.  But  he  came  to  Cambridge 
from  the  far  West ;  he  brought  with  him  no  letters  of 
introduction ;  his  manners  were  peculiar,  his  speech 
idiomatic,  his  dress  plain.  At  the  outset,  he  was  set 
down  as  a  scrubby  fellow ;  and  nobody  cared  to  know 
him.  He  never  belonged  to  any  college  society;  he 
never  belonged  to  any  "set ;  "  he  never  saw  the  inside 
of  a  Cambridge  drawing-room,  or  enjoyed  the  first 
social  privilege  during  his  college  life,  until  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  took  him  to  her  heart,  and  invited  him  to  her 
house,  after  which  the  Thornes  permitted  him  to  call. 
There  used  to  be  scores  of  such  cases  in  every  class ; 
doubtless  there  are  now.  Perhaps  the  professors  did 
their  whole  duty  when  they  heard  the  hour's  recitation, 
and  marked  the  men  fairly.  Perhaps  they  could  not 
with  reason  be  called  upon  to  introduce  the  rabble  of 
college  boys  to  their  families.  But  the  exclusiveness 
that  was  invariably  manifested  by  these  gentlemen  in 
Sam's  day  bore  hard  on  many  a  young  fellow  away 
from  home  and  friends. 

Then  there  are  the  "  boating  set,"  and  the  "  ball 
men,"  and  the  "good  livers,"  and  the  " society  men," 
and  the  "  botanists,"  and  the  "  naturalists : "  in  short, 
if  a  man  had  any  accomplishment  to  perfect,  or  any 
fancy  to  please,  the  Junior  year  used  to  be  the  time  in 
which  of  all  others  he  might  carry  out  his  plans. 

There  is  quite  a  new  set  on  the  river  at  this  time,  — 
quiet,  gentlemanly  fellows,  who  take  the  old  "  lap."  or  a 
discarded  shell,  and  pull  in  a  complacent,  dignified  way, 
as  only  Juniors  can.    The  Delta  resounded,  every  one 


THE  JUNIOR  YEAR. 


3T9 


of  til  3  mellow  autumn  da^^s,  with  the  crack  of  the  bat 
as  the  ball  went  whizzing  through  the  air.  How  happy 
these  Juniors  are  !  They  could  never  play  ball  before 
as  much  as  they  desired ;  but  now  they  can  practise  to 
their  hearts'  content.  If  one  falls  in  with  a  pair  of 
students  miles  away  from  Cambridge,  tramping  through 
,  woods  and  over  fields,  collecting  specimens  of  plants  or 
minerals  or  insects,  they  are  sure  to  be  Juniors,  —  com- 
placent, dignified,  happy  Juniors.  At  least,  it  used  to 
be  so  in  those  days. 

About  this  time  a  curious  determination  possessed 
Mr.  Huntingdon.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  win 
distinction  as  a  crack  oar,  and  to  pull  in  the  Harvard  in 
his  chum's  place.  He  proposed  this  to  Smith,  who 
simply  laughed  at  him.  Then  he  offered  his  services 
to  the  captain  of  the  class  crew,  who  very  politely 
declined  the  tender.  Nothing  daunted  by  these  two 
failures,  he  concluded  to  organize  a  crew  of  his  OAvn. 

"  Chum,"  he  said  suddenly  one  day,  "  I  am  going  to 
put  a  crew  on  the  river,  and  I  want  you  to  pull  stroke." 

"I  am  sorry  I  cannot  accommodate  you,"  replied 
Sam ;  "  but,  if  I  pulled  in  any  boat,  it  would  be  with 
Smith  and  Tom." 

"  But  this  is  only  a  crew  for  practice :  there  will  be 
no  training  or  hard  work,  and  you  shall  be  captain." 

Sam  smiled,  and  replied,  "I  have  given  up  work  in 
a  six-oar,  chum."  Mr.  Huntingdon  was  fain  to  seek 
ctiiother  captain. 

Yes,  Sam  had  given  up  work  in  a  six-oar.  If  he 
had  a  reason,  or  thought  he  had  one,  for  refusing  to  pull 
the  year  before,  it  was  laziness  or  indifference  that  alone 


380  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


kept  him  out  of  the  boat  now ;  for  he  was  a  very  differ- 
ent man  this  Junior  year,  as  will  more  full}^  appear  fur- 
ther on.  One  would  hardly  have  recognized  him  as  the 
easy,  happy  fellow  of  a  twelvemonth  ago.  He  was, 
however,  too  much  of  a  water-dog  to  give  up  the  river 
altogether.  Jointly  with  Villiers  he  had  purchased  a 
double-scull,  which  the  two  stalwart  young  fellows 
propelled  with  tremendous  power.  In  this  craft  they 
explored  the  river  for  miles  above  the  dam,  carrying  the 
boat  around  falls  or  shoals  or  rapids ;  and  they  used 
frequently  to  start  oft*  early  of  a  Saturday  morning, 
with  a  basket  of  lunch,  and  make  a  day  of  it,  down  the 
harbor.  They  pulled  so  well  that  few  boats  could  fol- 
low them. 

Huntingdon  was  a  very  persevering  man,  though, 
indeed,  it  was  not  difficult  for  him  to  find  five  men  to 
join  his  crew,  most  incongruous  elements  though  they 
were  ;  men  whom  Huntingdon  had  snubbed  in  the  days 
gone  by,  but  who  were  drawn  together  by  a  common 
bond,  —  the  love  of  boating;  disappointed  candidates 
for  the  class  boat ;  men  whose  dream  of  happiness  had 
been  to  pull  in  a  six-oar,  and  who  now  saw  a  possibility 
of  realizing  their  hopes ;  all  as  enthusiastic  as  a  captain 
could  desire. 

Huntingdon's  plan  was  to  use  the  old  club  lapstreak^ 
at  least  for  a  time.  The  class  shell  was  too  crank  for  a 
company  of  beginners ;  but  the  old  lap.  was  the  very 
thing,  —  safe,  comfortable,  and  light ;  and  she  hung 
strapped  to  the  rafters  in  the  boat-house,  of  no  service 
to  any  one.  The  class  boat-club  that  had  purchased 
her  was  practically  long  since  defunct.  He  himself 
was  a  member;  but  as  several  of  his  crew  were  not, 


THE  JUNIOE  YEAB. 


381 


just  for  form's  sake,  he  thought  he  would  mention  the 
matter  to  some  of  the  members,  and  see  if  there  was 
any  objection  to  his  using  the  boat. 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  right ;  make  such  use  of  her  as  you 
please :  she  is  of  no  service  to  any  one,"  was  the  repl}' 
to  his  queries.  At  length  one  morning  all  was  in  readi- 
ness ;  the  new  crew  met  together  at  the  boat-house, 
and  actually  got  under  way.  To  be  sure,  the  oars  took 
the  water  in  a  succession  truly  Freshmanic;  and  the 
boat  tacked  from  one  side  of  the  river  to  the  other, 
like  a  close-hauled  craft  beating  to  windward.  They 
did  better  next  time,  however;  and  there  was  a  fair 
prospect  that  Huntingdon's  crew  might  come  to  some- 
thing in  time.  One  morning,  not  long  after  this,  they 
assembled  at  the  boat-house  stripped  for  their  usual 
morning  pull;  but  the  boat  was  gone. 

"  Well,  this  is  interesting  !  "  said  the  stroke,  with  a 
blank  look. 

"  She  hasn't  been  out  for  a  year,  except  as  we  have 
used  her,"  said  another. 

Some  of  the  club  men  must  have  taken  her,"  sug- 
gested a  third.  "  They  have  a  good  right  to  her,  I 
suppose." 

"  That  must  be  it,"  said  Huntingdon,  thoughtfully. 
"  It  was  such  a  charming  morning,  I  dare  say  they 
thought  they  would  take  a  paddle.  Wait  awhile : 
they  can't  be  gone  long.'*  The  men  lounged  around 
expectantly  for  an  hour,  and  then  dispersed  without 
their  pull;  and  one  of  them  who  went  out  in  his 
wherry  reported  on  his  return  that  he  had  seen  the 
boat  and  a  club  crew  at  Watertown. 

Next  day  there  was  no  boat  again ;  and  the  follow- 


382 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


ing  day  the  result  of  their  stripping,  and  coming  down 
to  the  boat-house,  was  the  same.  The  men  began  to 
grumble. 

"  Interest  in  boating  seems  to  be  coming  up  all  of 
a  sudden,"  said  Huntingdon,  sarcastically.  "  It  looks 
precisely  as  though  this  thing  was  done  on  j)urpose,  so 
that  we  shouldn't  use  their  old  ark.  I  mean  to  stay 
here,  fellows,  till  she  comes  back,  and  see  who  has 
taken  her,  and  what  it  all  means.  I  promise  yon  it 
shall  not  happen  again ;  "  and  Huntingdon  waited :  the 
rest  dispersed. 

Presently  the  nose  of  the  boat  shot  out  from  under 
the  bridge,  and  the  measured  pace  of  a  six-oar  brought 
her  quickly  up  to  the  raft ;  and  in  an  instant  she  was 
alongside.  Huntingdon  recognized  half  a  dozen  well- 
known  classmates,  none  of  them  his  dearest  friends. 
Hawes  had  been  pulling  stroke,  and  Smith  bow;  and 
there  were  Lyman,  Longstreet,  and  Adams. 

"How  are  you,  Huntingdon?"  called  out  Longstreet, 
as  he  jumped  briskly  out  of  the  boat.  "  We  have  been 
out  for  a  little  pull,  you  see.  It's  splendid  exercise  this 
fall  weather ;  the  very  best  thing  in  the  world  to  set  a 
man  up  for  the  winter; "  and  he  bustled  consequentially 
about,  putting  away  the  oars. 

"  Then  you  doubtless  propose  to  continue  the  recrea- 
tion." 

"  Yes,"  returned  Adams,  with  cool  indolence.  "  I,  for 
one,  am  going  to  train  for  Wentworth's  place  in  the 
Harvard;  and  I  want  to  pull  all  I  can,  so  as  to  get 
Tom's  stroke ;  "  and  he  looked  admiringly  at  his  arms, 
which  were  as  soft  and  white  as  a  girl's. 

"  Oh,  weU,  of  course  I'm  going  to  train  for  the  Har 


THE  JUNIOE  YEAE. 


383 


yard  too,"  said  Longstreet,  drawing  up  Ms  biceps,  and 
looking  at  his  show  of  muscle  with  a  very  knowing 
expression.  "  You  needn't  laugh :  stranger  things  than 
that  have  happened." 

"  This  is  what  I  wanted  to  ascertain,"  said  Hunting- 
don, with  dignity ;  "  for,  knowing  your  plans,  I  can  make 
my  arrangements  to  suit  them.  It  is  not  very  pleasant 
to  get  ready  for  a  pull,  and  find  that  the  boat  is  gone." 

"  You  have  wanted  to  use  the  boat  I "  exclaimed 
Longstreet,  in  a  loud  and  surprised  tone.  "  Well,  that 
is  news.  —  I  say,  fellows,  Huntingdon  has  been  getting 
his  crew  together,  and  coming  to  take  a  pull  every  day ; 
and  we  have  been  out  in  the  boat  ourselves ;  and  they 
were  getting  on  so  finely  too,  so  everybody  said.  It  is 
too  bad,  isn't  it?  " 

At  this  there  were  grave  faces  and  very  general 
expressions  of  sympathy,  and  regrets  that  their  pulls 
should  have  been  so  ill-timed ;  but  all  the  while  the 
winks  and  knowing  looks  exchanged  among  the  young 
fellows  were  enough  to  make  it  apparent  to  a  much  less 
sophisticated  person  than  Huntingdon,  that  he  was 
being  most  decidedly  roughed.  He  stood  quiet  a  few 
moments ;  one  or  two  finished  dressing,  and  went  away. 

"Well,  fellows,"  he  said  at  length,  "if  I  had  for  a 
moment  imagined  I  was  not  perfectly  welcome  to  the 
boat,  I  would  not  have  used  her  on  any  account." 

"Wouldn't  have  tried  to,  you  mean,"  called  out 
Longstreet,  as  he  dashed  off. 

"You  are  perfectly  welcome  to  the  old  craft,"  said 
Lyman,  with  cool  indifference,  as  he  walked  leisurely 
with  Huntingdon  up  from  the  boat-houses.  You  would 
have  thought,  to  look  at  them  so  polite  and  courteous 


384 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


to  one  another,  and  so  ready  to  accommodate,  that  they 
were  the  best  friends  possible. 

"  We  can  use  the  boat  in  the  afternoon,  if  that  will 
not  interfere  with  your  recreation,"  suggested  Hunting- 
don, blandly ;  for  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  use  her 
in  spite  of  all  opposition. 

"  Certainly,"  returned  Lyman  :  "  suit  your  own  con- 
venience in  this  matter.  Our  recreation  is  of  no  conse- 
quence compared  with  the  training  of  your  crew.  Use 
the  boat  whenever  you  like ; "  but  the  worthy  Junior 
added  to  himself  that  he  would  be  — —  if  his  estimable 
classmate  should  do  any  such  thing. 

The  afternoon  pull  came  off  once ;  and  the  next  day 
the  new  crew  found  that  all  pulling  in  that  boat  was 
forever  ended.  Somebody  had  stove  her  in,  in  half  a 
dozen  places  ;  the  oars  were  broken,  the  rowlocks  torn 
off,  the  rudder  unhinged  and  gone  ;  and  the  gallant  old 
craft  which  had  taken  so  many  jolly  fellows  on  so 
many  jolly  larks,  which  had  trained  so  many  oars  that 
had  afterward  honored  the  college,  which  had  been 
bravely  through  a  score  of  races  where  she  always  had 
done  her  best,  which  had  been  so  long  stanch  and 
true,  so  obedient  to  her  master,  so  willing,  so  brave,  — 
lay  a  wreck  on  her  side  with  half  a  dozen  death-stabs, 
her  usefulness  departed  forever. 

It  was  evident  now  to  any  one  what  this  sudden 
interest  in  boating,  among  men  who  had  not  pulled  a 
stroke  for  two  years,  signified.  "  An  enemy  hath  done 
this,"  was  the  involuntary  thought  of  each  one  as  they 
gazed  at  the  ruin  in  silence. 

Not  to  be  baffled  in  this  way,  Huntingdon  bought  a 
boat  from  the  Sophs.,  and  so  kept  his  crew  on  the  river. 


THE  JUNIOR  YEAR. 


385 


It  is  evident  from  this  incident  that  members  of  the 
same  class  do  not  always  bear  the  spirit  of  brotherly 
love  to  one  another. 

One  bright  Saturday  morning,  in  the  fall,  a  large 
crowd  was  collected  in  front  of  Hallis ;  a  cushion  was 
placed  in  a  certain  window  in  the  second  story  of  the 
old  hall;  and  a  sleek-looking  j^oung  fellow,  with  a 
glossy  silk  hat  and  an  independent  air,  nonchalantly 
seated  himself  thereon,  facing  the  crowd  below.  When 
comfortably  settled,  his  hat  waved  in  the  air ;  and  the 
short,  sharp  cheers  for  the  respective  classes  of  under- 
graduates rang  out,  and  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
morning. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  asked  one  Freshman  of  another,  as 
they  tumbled  down  the  steps  of  University. 

"  Mock  parts,"  returned  the  knowing  youth.  "  Come 
along  ;  they  are  bully.  We  are  just  in  time  :  they've 
not  begun  yet."  They  broke  into  a  most  undignified 
run,  and  swelled  the  crowd  just  in  time  to  join  in  the 
abortive  cheers  for  their  own  class,  which  is  roughed  on 
this  occasion  as  much  as  may  be ;  a  general  howl  arising 
and  drowning  their  often  undecided  "  Rali^  Rah^  Rali!  " 

Lyman  was  reading  in  his  cool,  self-possessed  waj^,  the 
humorous  description  of  the  procession  of  "  part "  men 
and  others  which  are  supposed  to  be  en  route  for  the 
hall  where  the  exercises  of  Junior  exhibition  were  to 
commence  on  their  arrival.  The  narrator  hit  off  local 
customs  and  personal  peculiarities,  stopping  gravely,  as 
some  well-aimed  shaft  of  wit  or  sarcasm  struck  its  mark, 
till  the  noise  of  the  clapping  of  hands  and  the  pealing 
laughter  subsided :  then,  as  the  grotesquely  ridiculous 


386 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


procession  entered  the  hall,  Lyman  read  over  one  after 
another  the  "mock  parts,"  or  supposed  subjects  on 
which  the  imaginary  orators  were  to  hold  forth  for  the 
edification  of  the  audience. 

This  reading  of  mock  parts  used  to  be  one  of  the 
very  best  incidents  of  the  year.  If  a  man  had  at  any 
time,  during  the  two  years  and  two  months  of  his  col- 
lege life,  made  himself  conspicuous  in  any  way,  he  was 
sure  to  hear  of  it  at  mock  parts,  in  a  way  that  was 
certain  to  amuse  and  gratify  the  three  hundred  auditors 
who  were  present,  listening  with  eager  ears,  rather  than 
himself.  A  part,  or  perhaps  half  a  dozen  of  them, 
would  be  read  over  his  name ;  a  familiar  quotation,  a 
well-known  line  of  poetry,  a  few  suggestive  words,  call- 
ing up  the  particular  incident  in  an  unmistakable  way ; 
his  good  actions,  his  folly,  his  vices,  his  conceit;  an 
awkward  predicament  of  the  time  gone,  an  unfortunate 
name,  a  Quixotic  idea,  an  absurd  pretension, — nothing 
escaped  the  censorship  of  mock  parts.  For  the  most 
part,  this  was  good-naturedly  given  and  taken.  The 
parts  were  sent  in  to  the  committee,  none  knowing 
whence  they  came,  and  were  read  unless  too  bad. 

How  could  it  be  expected  that  so  unfortunate  and 
ludicrous  an  adventure  as  that  of  our  friend  Hunting- 
don, when  he  was  struggling  in  the  water  with  an  irate 
Freshman  that  cold  November  night  a  year  before, 
should  escape  notice  at  such  a  time  as  this  ?  Fully  one 
third  of  the  parts  —  one-half  that  had  been  handed  in, 
the  committee  said  —  were  with  reference  to  this  mat- 
ter ;  and  every  possible  change  was  rung  upon  it.  Of 
course  all  the  Sophs,  present  were  noisy  in  their  demon- 
strations when  part  after  part  was  read,  hittinsf  off  this 


THE  JUNIOR  YEAR. 


387 


midnight  adventure  of  the  swelly  Junior.  They  could 
understand  the  joke  here  if  they  could  not  in  most  of 
the  other  cases,  and  made  up  for  their  enforced  silence. 
Who  could  blame  them?  had  not  Huntingdon  treated 
them,  for  the  most  part,  last  year,  as  though  they  were 
dogs  ?    It  was  their  turn  now. 

There  was  quite  a  little  knot  of  Juniors  too,  Hunting- 
don's own  classmates,  who  were  especially  delighted  at 
these  parts,  and  hooted  and  huzzaed  and  clapped  their 
hands,  whenever  one  of  them  was  read,  in  a  very  marked 
manner.  Many  of  the  class  forebore,  for  after  the  first 
four  or  five  there  was  little  to  laugh  at ;  but  this  par- 
ticular group  seemed  bound  to  be  very  highly  pleased 
at  this  incident.  It  was  plain  enough  to  any  one 
of  the  three  hundred  gathered  under  the  window  of 
Hollis  Hall  that  morning,  whether  tutor  or  professional 
student  or  goody  or  undergraduate,  that  Mr.  Walter 
Huntingdon  was  being  most  decidedly  roughed.  Some 
men  said  it  was  too  bad,  —  some  of  the  more  considerate. 
Villiers  looked  very  grave  indeed,  and  expressed  his 
displeasure  in  decided  terms ;  but  for  the  most  part  the 
class  didn't  care,  except  that  it  was  something  to  talk 
about  for  two  or  three  days. 

Perhaps  the  most  suggestive  feature  of  the  morning 
was  the  fact  that,  in  the  arrangements  for  carrying  out 
the  morning's  programme,  Huntingdon  had  been  en- 
tirely ignored.  His  advice  had  not  even  been  asked  on 
any  one  matter.  What  a  change  in  the  position  of  the 
man  who  a  year  ago  ruled  so  prosperously !  and  for  the 
most  part  it  had  all  been  brought  about  by  three  or  four 
determined  men. 

The  Faculty  had  seen  fit  to  assign  Sam  a  Greek  ver- 


388 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


sion  for  Junior  exhibition,  which  was  to  come  along 
presently.  The  young  man  had  climbei  to  the  fifth 
place  on  the  rank-list  for  last  year,  to  the  satisfaction 
of  his  friends  at  home ;  and  he  ought  to  have  been  well 
pleased  with  his  year's  grind. 


xxiy. 


THE  EUSSIAX. 

After  the  memorable  night  in  June  when,  as  Sam 

used  often  to  declare  in  a  comically  lugubrious  way, 
"  a  glorious  possibility  yas  blotted  out  of  his  life  for- 
eyer,"  he  was  a  changed  being.  A  man  Ayho  had  neyer 
before  known  a  gloomy  hour,  he  had  now  the  most 
terrible  fits  of  ^'  the  blues  ;  "  a  man  whose  whole  being 
had  oyerflowed  with  good-nature  and  kindness,  his  dis- 
position seemed  changed  to  bitterness  itself;  a  man 
who  had  had  the  fullest  and  most  perfect  faith  in  all 
that  was  fair  seeming,  he  appeared  now  to  consider 
truth,  integrity,  and  honor  a  myth,  and  fair  intentions 
a  cloak  for  treachery  :  he  discoyered  a  false  motiye  in 
eyery  good  deed,  empty  shoAy  beneath  fair  adyances ; 
and  a  sharp  and  sarcastic  remark  was  eyer  on  his 
tongue. 

His  mother  was  at  first  surprised,  then  grieyed,  then 
alarmed,  at  the  transformation.  He  was  not  her  boy  at 
all;  and  her  tender  heart  was  deeply  wounded.  Kate, 
equally  surprised,  at  once  suspected  the  truth,  though 
there  was  that  in  her  brother's  manner  which  forbade 
inquiry  eyen  by  her.  She  urged  him  to  take  a  tour 
through  the  mountains,  declaring  that  it  must  be  dull 
for  him  at  home ;  but  the  young  man  saw  fit  to  remain 

389 


390 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


where  he  was,  and  made  himself  disagreeable  and  un- 
happy to  his  heart's  content. 

For  a  long  time,  Kate  forbore  all  allusion  to  the 
cause  of  his  troubles ;  but  he  was  so  comically  woe- 
begone, that  at  last  her  humor  got  the  better  of  her 
resolution,  and  she  drew  forth  the  whole  story.  She 
restrained  all  mirth,  and  did  her  best  to  entertain  and 
comfort  him  ;  but  his  wounds  were  too  deep  for  her  sim- 
ple surgery ;  they  were  not  like  the  hurts  that  she  used 
to  kiss  away  when  they  were  children.  The  old,  simple, 
happy  times  were  gone.  The  summer  dragged  slowly 
enough,  and  how  quietly,  in  comparison  with  the  last ! 
It  ended  at  last,  however  ;  and  then  came  the  return  to 
college. 

The  two  chums  were  not  particularly  fond  of  one 
another  this  Junior  year.  Huntingdon  knew  well 
"where  the  shoe  pinched,"  as  he  expressed  it,  with  Sam, 
and  was  in  the  habit  of  suggesting  a  sea-voyage  as  the 
best  possible  cure  for  melancholy,  besides  indulging 
in  other  pleasantry,  until  Sam  one  day  cut  him  short  in 
language  more  forcible  than  elegant.  After  this  there 
was  coldness  and  indifference  between  them ;  and  Himt- 
ingdon  was  ever  ready  with  one  of  his  sneers. 

Sam,  on  his  part,  had  come  to  see  his  chum's  charac- 
ter in  very  nearly  its  true  light.  He  saw  how  false  this 
man  was,  who  had  so  fascinated  him  two  years  before, 
and  whom  he  had  loved  with  the  ardor  of  his  boyish, 
impetuous,  confiding  nature.  As  he  was  at  this  time 
without  a  grain  (^f  charity  for  any  thing  that  savored 
of  meaniiess  or  insincerity,  or,  indeed,  for  any  thing 
that  chanced  to  come  under  his  own  most  royal  dis- 
pleasure, whether  with  good  reason  or  not,  his  contempt 


THE  RUSSIAN. 


391 


for  Huntingdon  was  now  as  deep  as  his  admiration  had 
formerly  been. 

Wentworth  was  still  a  prominent  and  a  rising  man 
in  the  class  and  college.  He  had  contributed  much 
toward  the  splendid  victory  that  the  magenta  had  won 
over  the  blue,  in  July,  at  Quinsigamond ;  and  though 
the  men  had  all  been  heroes,  his  manly  proportions, 
eminent  strength,  and  graceful  style  had  made  his 
name  synonymous  with  the  perfection  of  aquatic  accom- 
plishment. Especially  among  the  men  in  the  younger 
classes,  was  his  prowess  a  favorite  subject  for  admiring 
gossip.  That  easy,  indolent,  half-supercilious  manner, 
which  had  of  old  so  commended  itself  to  his  taste,  and 
which  he  had  striven  so  hard  to  acquire,  came  to  him 
quite  naturally  now,  and  became  him  wonderfully  too  ; 
and  many  a  Freshman  sighed  with  envy  as  he  regarded 
the  well-favored,  complacent,  indifferent  Junior,  and 
thought  that,  were  it  possible  to  reach  his  standard 
of  perfection,  the  measure  of  happiness  would  be  more 
than  full. 

His  own  particular  friends  were  indeed  bound  to 
him  with  bands  of  steel,  although  he  had  a  way  of 
saying  sharp  things,  that  might  have  made  another  man 
many  enemies.  Thanks  to  Villiers,  he  had  learned  to 
look  with  respect  on  the  industrious,  unobtrusive  men 
of  the  class,  whom  he  used  to  pass  by  with  an  indiffer- 
ence born  of  thoughtlessness,  and  to  find  in  them  much 
that  he  was  honestly  compelled  to  esteem ;  and  these 
men  felt  kindly  toward  him  for  his  notice.  No  student 
ever  entered  upon  the  Junior  year  with  fairer  prospects, 
or  at  least  with  more  flattering  possibilities. 

His  habits  of  work  were  in  strong  contrast  with 


392 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


those  of  a  twelvemontli  before.  "Study  is  played 
out,"  he  said  to  Villiers  more  than  a  score  of  times,  in 
the  cool,  indifferent  manner  which  now  characterized 
him,  and  often  with  the  weary  feeling  that  every  thing 
was  "  played  out ;  "  to  which  proposition  Villiers  was 
wont  to  reply  only  with  a  look  from  eyes  tenderly 
anxious  and  sad.  Nevertheless  Sam  studied  much,  ear- 
nestly at  times,  from  sheer  desperation  for  employment. 
He  made  friends  with  the  jocund  Cerberus  of  Gore 
Hall,  not  so  easy  a  task  for  another  man,  and  spent 
hours  and  houi'S  in  its  silent  alcoves,  in  communion 
with  much  that  was  good  and  much  that  was  new. 
He  often  read  far  into  the  night,  putting  by  his  book 
only  when  his  chum  returned  from  some  protracted 
revel ;  and  the  "  midnight  oil "  was  no  myth  to  him 
now.  By  degrees  he  came  to  understand  what  Cole 
meant  when  he  said  that  he  studied  purely  for  the  love 
of  study,  and  to  realize  that  a  very  perfect  happiness 
might  be  derived  from  books.  But  it  was  not  yet  time 
for  him  to  profit  to  the  full  by  the  discovery ;  for  he 
was  too  indifferent  and  careless,  too  difficult  to  please, 
to  follow  any  thing  long. 

Villiers  was  only  too  kind  and  patient  with  his  friend. 
Sam  kept  his  own  secret ;  and  if  Villiers  mistrusted 
the  cause  of  his  changed  disposition,  he  never  in  any 
way  indicated  his  suspicions,  or  alluded  to  the  past 
year.  For  the  most  part,  Sam  was  different  towards  this 
friend  than  towards  others.  There  was  less  snap  and 
sarcasm  in  his  manner ;  but  sometimes  he  would  have 
his  sneer,  even  at  Villiers  and  his  philosophy  and  faith 
in  the  right.  As  their  electives  were  different,  they 
were  less  together  than  in  the  years  before  ;  though 


THE  RUSSIAN. 


393 


Villiers  was  always  ready  to  throw  down  his  book,  and 
go  for  a  pull  on  the  river,  or  a  tramp  through  the 
fiountry. 

The  memory  of  his  classmate  who  had  died  at  his 
post  was  often  before  him  in  these  days  ;  and,  strolling 
by  the  hall  one  October  afternoon,  he  thought  he  would 
go  in  and  see  Cole's  room.  Climbing  the  two  flights 
of  stairs,  and  proceeding  cautiously  along  the  dim 
passage-way,  he  paused  at  length  before  the  door.  A 
bit  of  pasteboard  tacked  on  the  panel  bore  the  name  of 
Cartier ;  and  it  was  that  gentleman's  ever-cheerful  face 
that  peered  out  at  him  as  the  door  was  opened  in 
response  to  his  knock. 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Wentworth,"  said  Cartier,  extending 
his  hand  cordially. 

Sam  entered  without  a  word,  so  great  was  his  surprise 
at  this  most  unlooked-for  apparition  ;  and  he  was  still 
more  sui-prised  to  see  that  appearances  showed  the  law- 
student  to  be  the  occupant  of  the  room. 

"  How  long  have  you  roomed  here  ? "  he  said  at 
length,  gathering  his  wits  together. 

"  Since  the  summer,"  returned  the  diplomat.  "  It  is 
really  kind  of  you  to  come  and  see  me,"  said  he,  never 
guessing  that  the  call  was  not  intended  for  him. 

"  Didn't  you  like  your  other  rooms  ?  "  queried  Sam, 
innocently.  (Cartier  had*been  domiciled  in  elegant 
quarters  in  a  private  house.) 

"  Oh,  yes ;  to  be  sure.  I  did  not  come  down  to  this 
place  from  choice." 

"  No  ?  "  said  Sam,  a  little  puzzled.    "  How,  then  ?  " 

"  From  necessity,  my  friend  ;  "  and  Cartier  laughed 
though  Sam  thought  chagrin  and  mortification  had 
their  part  in  it  as  well  as  mirth. 


394 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  You  know,"  continued  Cartier,  passing  Sam  a  costly 
pipe,  and  tobacco  from  an  elegantly  carved  dish,  "  that 
I  spent  all  the  allowance  I  had,  long  ago.  Since  then 
I  have  had  little  to  live  on  except  the  expectation  that 
Gen.  King  (you  know  the  General  is  United  States 
Minister  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  a  great  friend  of  my 
father's)  would  intercede,  and  get  some  more  money 
for  me.  The  General  sent  me  a  few  hundreds  ;  but  he 
wrote  that  my  father  was  terribly  angry,  and  would 
give  me  nothing  till  the  two  years  are  up.  I  had  paid 
nothing  for  my  rooms ;  and,  as  the  woman  refused  to 
wait,  I  was  obliged  to  give  them  up ;  and  I  found  out 
this  place.  I  had  paid  nothing  for  my  board,  and  was 
told  that  my  place  at  the  table  was  engaged.  Well,  I 
get  on  here  pretty  well,  with  plenty  of  bread  and  milk 
for  breakfast,  and  coffee  when  I  like  to  have  it.  I  am 
almost  always  invited  out  to  dinner.  I  bought  a  car- 
pet," and  he  glanced  at  the  bare  floor  ;  "  but  the  fellow 
would  not  send  it  until  it  was  paid  for ;  and  it  is  in  the 
store  now,  I  dare  say.  However,  my  father  must  give 
in  soon.  I  am  expecting  every  day  to  hear  that  he 
has." 

It  was  indeed  passing  strange,  Sam  thought,  that  this 
young  man,  who  a  few  months  before  had  squandered 
money  without  stint,  should  be  living  here  in  Cole's 
room,  breakfasting  on  bread  and  milk,  and  depending 
on  invitations  for  a  dinner.  But  he  appeared  not  in 
the  least  overwhelmed  at  the  change.  Adversity  sat  as 
gracefully  on  his  shoulders  as  affluence.  He  was  the 
same  debonair,  ambrosial  youth,  apparently  as  content 
with  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  milk,  as  ever  he  had 
been  with  the  greatest  abundance.    The  room  presented 


THE  EUSSIAX. 


395 


a  curious  contrast  of  luxurious  elegance  and  rude  pov- 
erty. There  was  tlie  bare  floor,  and  the  primitive  chairs, 
table,  and  bureau,  as  it  had  been  in  Cole's  tirae  :  the 
same  vooden  bedstead,  with  the  college  bed,  vas  in 
the  alcove :  but  a  luximous  armchair  vras  drawn  up  in 
front  of  the  grate  ;  a  little  stand  close  by  held  a  collec- 
tion of  the  choicest  pipes,  together  vdth  trays,  tobacco- 
boxes,  and  smoker's  paraphernalia,  all  of  the  most 
reclierclie  pattern;  a  pair  of  solid  silver  candlesticks 
with  half-burned  candles  were  on  the  mantel :  pictures, 
statuettes,  and  articles  of  bijouterie,  were  gathered  pro- 
miscuously in  a  corner,  ju^t  as  they  had  been  left 
three  months  before.  On  the  table  was  a  paper  bag  half 
full  of  sugar,  and  beside  it  an  exquisite  china  cup  and 
saucer  and  a  pewter  spoon.  Several  luxuiious  dressing- 
gowns  lay  about  on  the  chairs :  smoking-caps,  several 
pair  of  foils  and  masks,  boxing-gloves.  French  boots, 
slippers,  neck-scarfs,  jewelry,  and  jewel-cases,  there  were 
in  abundance.  Hundreds  of  dollars  could  not  have 
purchased  half  the  useless  luxury  that  abounded,  while 
the  commonest  articles  of  necessity  and  comfort  were 
wanting. 

Sam's  curious  eye  took  all  this  in,  as  he  listened  to 
the  Russian's  recital,  puffing  away  all  the  time  at  the 
fragrant  perrique. 

'•"^"hile  vou  are  waitins;  for  the  old  o^entleman  to 
come  aXuund,"  he  said,  after  a  little  silence,  you  must 
noL  forget  that  you  have  friends,  or  hesitate  to  use 
.them.  I  am  always  at  your  service.  I  know  what  it 
is,"  he  continued  with  a  smile.  to  be  left  before  the 
eud  of  the  term  with  nothino^  on  hand,  and  be  hard 
up ;  for  I  have  experienced  it  myself." 


896 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  I  may  take  you  at  your  word  some  da^  said  Car 
tier,  with  an  uneasy  laugli. 

"  Pray  do  so  now,"  returned  Sam,  earnestly. 

"  No,  not  just  now,  though  I  thank  you  much ;  "  and 
he  shook  Sam's  hand  warmly. 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  puzzles  me,"  said  our  stu- 
dent, frankly,  though  with  a  feeling  that  he  might  he 
treading  on  dangerous  ground;  "and  that  is,  I  can't 
understand  how  you  can  possibly  have  spent  such  a 
large  sum  of  money  as  you  had  at  your  disposal  in  so 
short  a  time." 

"Oh,"  laughing,  "I  can  enlighten  you.  The  ladies 
had  a  good  share  of  it:  they  run  away  with  money 
tolerably  fast,"  said  the  Russian,  with  an  air  of  inde- 
scribable complacency. 

"  The  ladies  ?  "  repeated  Sam,  innocently,  immediately 
thinking  over  in  his  mind  Miss  Eldredge  and  half  a 
score  of  nice  Cambridge  girls.  "  They  scarcely  permit 
a  gentleman  to  spend  much  money  for  them." 

"  Ah  ?  No  !  perhaps  not,"  said  Cartier  with  a  curious 
look  at  his  guest ;  "  but  that  depends.  However,  I  can- 
not lay  at  their  door  the  loss  of  all  my  money,  or  even 
the  larger  part  of  it.  No,  my  friend,  I  lost  it,  as  I  have 
lost  much  before,  at  play ; "  and  the  host  carelessly 
rolled  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette. 

Sam's  looks  showed  that  he  did  not  fully  compre- 
hend the  force  of  the  statement. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Cartier :  "  the  largest  part  of  the 
money  I  had  for  the  two  years  I  lost  at  play ;  only,  in- 
stead of  rouge  et  noir,  it  was  your  chum's  confounded 
poker  that  was  my  undoing." 

Our  friend  was  more  in  the  dark  than  before  :  and  he 


THE  RUSSIAN. 


397 


repeated  the  word  "poker*'  mechanically,  to  the  mani- 
fest enjoyment  of  his  vis-{i-vis^  who  langhed  pleasantly. 

"  It  is  amusing  to  me,  my  friend,  when  I  think  of  it," 
he  said,  after  his  mirth  had  subsided :  for  he  was  far  too 
polite  to  suffer  his  guest  to  discern  that  he  had  been 
laughing  at  him :  "  I  spent  a  couple  of  thousand  fitting 
up  the  '  Den ; '  and  it,  together  with  your  friend  Hunting- 
don and  his  little  game  of  poker,  have  been  my  undoing. 
A  good  many  hundreds  of  dollars  went  into  the  pock- 
ets of  your  excellent  ]Mr.  Huntingdon.  But  I  regret 
nothing ;  "  and  he  deftly  rolled  another  cigarette.  "  My 
father  must  come  around  before  long,  and  then  I  must 
have  my  revenge.  Permit  me :  your  pipe  has  gone 
out;"  and  with  his  easy  grace  he  presented  alighted 
piece  of  paper  to  Sam. 

"I  —  I  —  thank  you:  I  believe  I  won't  smoke  any 
more,"  said  Sam,  returning  the  pipe  to  its  owner.  He 
had  been  slow  to  comprehend  Cartier's  statements,  but 
he  understood  all  now.  So  his  chum  was  no  better  than 
a  gambler,  who  had  fleeced  this  rather  simple-witted,  if 
not  unsophisticated,  young  foreigner.  Curiously,  as  he 
afterwards  thought,  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  attach 
any  blame  to  Cartier  :  he  was  so  absolutely  unconscious 
himself  of  any  moral  oblici  uity,  —  considering  money 
expended  for  "the  ladies,"  or  won  or  lost  at  play,  as  so 
entirely  a  matter  of  course,  —  was  so  frank  and  honest 
in  his  statements,  and  so  innocent  looking  withal,  that 
no  one  who  knew  him  ever  thought  for  a  moment  of 
blaming  him  for  any  thing  he  did;  though,  as  Haskill 
had  said,  his  doino-s  would  have  made  another  man  an 
outcast  from  society. 

"  By  tlie  way,"  resumed  Cartier,  "  we  have  never  had 


1 

398  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  nARVARD. 

the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  at  the  'Den.'  Won't  you 
accompany  me  there  some  time  ?  One  is  not  obliged  to 
play ;  and  the  company  is  limited  as  to  numbers,  and 
always  choice." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Sam,  feeling,  however,  a  little 
uneasy:  "  I  should  like  to  go  with  you  much." 

"  Then  we  can  go  now.  Excuse  me,  but  my  room 
has  to  serve  for  dressing-room  as  well  as  for  reception ; " 
and  the  Russian  doffed  his  dressing-gown  and  slippers, 
donned  his  street  apparel,  and  the  two  young  men  set 
out  for  the  Den. 

An  attractive  Den  it  was  for  most  young  fellows. 
The  house  was  small,  and  stood  on  a  quiet  street  some 
minutes'  walk  from  the  college  buildings,  surrounded 
with  trees,  and  having  an  air  of  modest,  cosey  comfort. 
It  had  been  leased  by  the  students  who  first  originated 
the  idea,  and  fitted  up  most  admirably  for  the  purpose 
for  which  it  was  intended.  The  rooms  were  warmly 
carpeted,  and  nicely  furnished  with  every  comfort  that 
could  be  asked  for  by  a  student.  All  kinds  of  pipes, 
tobacco  and  cigars  of  every  brand,  and  the  choicest 
liquors,  were  supplied  in  profusion.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  pictures  of  nude  or  scantily  draped  women, 
many  of  them  photographs  or  engravings  from  originals 
of  great  artistic  merit.  A  sable  attendant  ministered 
to  the  wants  of  the  company,  and  kept  the  premises 
wholesome  and  clean  between  times. 

Sam  had  never  seen  any  thing  quite  like  it  all  before. 
The  company  never  was  numerous,  —  usually  not  ex- 
ceeding half  a  score,  —  and  comprised  professional  stu- 
dents for  the  most  part,  some  of  them  young  bloods 
who  had  seen  life  in  European  capitals,  others  who  were 


THE  RUSSIAN. 


399 


more  familiar  with  life  on  the  frontier,  and  some  com- 
monplace enough.  All  drank  much  whiskey,  and  the 
apartments  were  dusky  with  tobacco-smoke.  They 
talked  a  slang  that  puzzled  the  young  fellow  at  first ; 
but  there  was  a  certain  fascination  in  their  company 
that  drew  Sam  often  to  the  Den. 

I  think  his  purity,  his  fresh  manhood,  his  unsuspect- 
ing singleness  of  heart,  and  his  prowess  which  com- 
manded respect  for  his  better  qualities,  had  a  certain 
influence  for  good  even  OA^er  the  reckless  fellows  who 
frequented  this  place.  With  the  single  exception  of 
his  chum,  they  were  all  very  polite  to  him;  admired 
his  pipe,  which  was  really  the  best-colored  bowl  in  the 
college  (Hawes  had  smoked  "  navy  "in  it  all  the  year 
of  Sam's  probation)  ;  encouraged  him  to  talk  "  boat," 
and  were  very  fair  and  considerate  toward  him  in  their 
play,  for  the  young  man  took  his  hand  at  poker  with 
the  rest  of  them,  though  it  was  rather  the  companion- 
ship and  conversation  (which  from  respect  to  him  was 
kept  quite  decent,  for  the  most  part,  when  he  was  pres- 
ent) than  the  chances  of  winning  or  losing  money  that 
attracted  him. 

It  was  no  fault  of  Huntingdon's  that  at  this  time  he 
did  not  prove  his  chum's  evil  genius.  It  was  no  dis- 
grace to  a  man  like  Cartier  to  lose  a  fortune  at  gam- 
bling, and  it  was  a  very  ordinary  matter  with  him.  His 
father,  whose  wealth  was  really  immense,  was  certain 
to  give  him  another  fortune,  after  punishing  him  with 
a  little  season  of  impecuniosity,  the  only  chastisement 
with  which  he  could  reach  his  son.  The  vice  made  him 
a  hero  rather  than  otherwise,  even  with  the  most  staid 
and.  respectable  people  of  Cambridge.    He  was  con- 


400 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


sciaus  of  no  wrong  himself;  and  perhaps  for  the  reason 
that  he  would  shortly  return  to  those  parts  where  his 
habits  were  the  fashion,  no  fault  was  charged  upon  him> 
The  other  men  whom  Sam  met  at  the  Den  were  for  the 
most  part  young  fellows  of  character,  with  a  purpose  at 
bottom,  who,  when  they  once  entered  upon  the  busy 
scenes  of  active  life,  would  forget  their  youthful  follies ; 
but  for  this  young  student  to  have  become  involved 
would  have  been  a  far  different  matter.  Yet  Sam  was 
thoughtless  of  all  this,  prone  to  follow  an  example 
which  was  for  the  time  attractive ;  and  Huntingdon, 
that  personification  of  guile  and  fair-seeming  purpose 
combined,  was  determined  to  ruin  him  if  it  were  possi- 
ble. Huntingdon  never  consummated  these  evil  pur- 
poses, however. 

Other  avenues  to  ruin  there  were,  which  Cartier  un- 
wittingly (for  in  this  he  was  a  mere  tool  in  the  hands 
of  Huntingdon)  threw  open  to  Sam's  thoughtless  feet. 
The  simple-hearted  boy  had  no  adequate  idea  of  the 
foulness  that  was  hid  beneath  all  the  beauty  and  blan- 
dishment which  he  saw  in  these  new  scenes,  —  at  least 
he  had  none  at  first,  —  but  destruction  none  the  less 
threatened  him  on  every' side.  In  truth,  he  was  tread- 
ing dangerous  ground.  The  honest  work  of  the  two 
preceding  years  was  at  this  critical  point  his  best  safe- 
guard. It  had  strengthened  his  natural  purit}^,  refined 
his  tastes,  ennobled  his  thoughts,  and  had  impercepti- 
bly infused  itself  throughout  his  whole  being,  making  a 
consciously  wrong  action  well-nigh  impossible.  It  took 
the  place  of  a  religious  principle,  which  might  have 
saved  another  man ;  of  a  deep,  soul-absorbing  love  which 
a  year  ago  precluded  any  danger  like  this ;  of  affec- 


THE  EUSSIAN. 


401 


tion  for  mother  and  sister,  powerless  now  to  avert  de- 
struction ;  of  a  deep-seated  devotion  to  duty,  like  his 
friend's,  which  as  yet  he  had  to  learn.  If  Huntingdon 
was  pre-eminently  his  evil  genius,  this  was  in  a  certain 
sense  his  guardian  angel :  for  it  had  made  vice  or  a 
sudden  plunge  into  it  almost  impossible. 

The  young  man  was  not  to  escape,  however,  without 
being  sorely  pressed.  Though  he  could  frequent  the 
Den,  and  join  in  the  play  there  without  forming  a  love 
for  this  dangerous  amusement;  and  though  he  could 
walk  in  those  paths  thick  set  with  danger  without 
once  missing^  his  foothold ;  thouo'h  he  could  see  the 
world  "  without  beins;  of  the  world,  as  he  reasoned  to 
himself,  —  all  this  had  its  effect  on  his  character  and  his 
notions  of  what  was  right  and  proper,  until  he  came  to 
look  with  different  eyes  on  many  things,  and  to  admit 
to  himself,  and  argue  with  Yilliers,  that  such  and  such 
an  action  might  not  be  so  exceedingly  reprehensible. 
Thus  it  came  about  that,  though  Huntingdon's  plans 
all  failed  of  an  immediate  result,  they  still  were  near 
bearing  fruit  exactly  after  their  originator's  heart,  when 
in  the  later  days  of  the  term,  after  all  danger  from  them 
had  apparently  passed  away,  the  young  student  came 
near  making  shipwreck,  from  causes  unforeseen,  acci- 
dental, and  unavoidable. 


XXV. 


KNIGHT-EEEANTRY. 

It  SO  happened  that  one  night  early  in  the  term,  Sam 
was  delayed  in  the  city  late,  and  that  it  was  the  last 
car,  which  leaves  the  Revere  House  at  twelve  o'clock, 
that  he  hailed  at  Charles  Street.  As  the  car  slacked 
its  speed,  he  jumped  on,  entered,  and  dropped  into  a 
corner  sleepy  and  tired.  Pulling  his  hat  down  over  his 
eyes,  after  handing  the  conductor  a  ticket,  he  attempted 
to  enjoy  such  rest  for  the  next  half-hour  as  might  be 
had  in  a  horse-car. 

But  it  soon  transpired  that  there  was  to  be  no  rest 
for  him  at  that  time.  Four  or  five  students  besides 
himself  had  taken  passage  ;  and,  judging  by  their  con- 
duct, these  latter  seemed  to  think  that  the  enjoyment 
of  the  evening  was  but  just  begun.  They  were  in  a 
decidedly  hilarious  condition,  and  were  singing  bits  of 
ribald  songs,  cracking  coarse  jokes,  and  behaving  any 
way  except  as  decent  young  fellows  ought.  The  con- 
ductor came  in  to  pick  up  the  fares,  and  made  some 
little  attempt  to  enforce  order,  and  calm  the  disturb- 
ance ;  but  he  presently  gave  it  up  with  a  grin,  and 
went  back  to  his  place  on  the  platform.  It  was  the 
last  car,"  and  he  was  used  to  it. 

These  Freshman  doings  chanced  on  this  particulai 

402 


KXIGHT-EREAKTPIY. 


403 


evening  to  be  extremely  disagreeable  to  the  moody 
Junior  who  sat  somewhat  restlessly  in  the  corner,  with 
his  hat  pulled  down  over  his  eyes.  He  glanced  quickly 
around  at  his  fellow-trayellers  for  a  familiar  face,  if  by 
chance  there  might  be  one,  and  for  the  first  time 
caught  sight  of  a  female  figure  in  the  corner,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  car.  It  needed  but  a  glance  to  see 
that  the  girl  was  most  uncomfortable,  and  ill  at  ease ; 
and  Sam,  as  he  glanced  around  once  more,  and  compre- 
hended her  situation,  looked  ominous.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and  gave  the  bell  a  jerk.  The  driver  put  on 
the  brakes,  and  brought  the  car  to  a  sudden  stop,  at 
the  same  time  twisting  his  head  around,  and  peering 
in  through  the  door-glass,  as  though  suspecting  some 
Freshman  trick.  The  conductor  was  on  the  spot  in 
an  instant,  ^-ith  an  inquiring  look. 

Sam  was  still  standing,  and  the  Freshmen  were  sud- 
denly quiet.  "  I  want  you  to  put  those  men  off :  they 
are  '  disorderly  '  and  '  intoxicated,'  and  are  insulting  that 
young  lady ;  "  and  he  pointed  to  a  rule  of  the  company, 
which  was  hung  up  in  the  car,  forbidding  the  use  of 
the  car  to  intoxicated  or  disorderly  persons. 

The  half-dozen  Freshmen  got  on  to  their  feet  at 
once;  the  conductor,  quite  nonplussed  at  the  unex- 
pected demand,  stood  silent  with  a  vacant  stare ;  the 
driver,  guessing  that  some  row  was  imminent,  started  up 
Lis  team ;  the  girl  sat  shrinking  in  the  corner,  her  face 
covered  with  her  hands  ;  while  the  confusion,  which  had 
ceased  for  a  moment,  became  indescribable.  The  con- 
ductor recommended  that  they  all  be  quiet,  and  that 
there  be  no  fuss.  One  or  two  of  the  students  were 
ready  to  fight,  and  asserted  their  willingness  vocifer- 


404 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEYARD. 


ously :  others  with  equal  determination  shouted  out 
their  counsels  for  peace.  All  this  time,  Sam  stood  look- 
ing dangerous,  and  feeling  ugly.  Fight  ?  he  would  like 
nothing  better.  He  pulled  the  bell  again  with  a  deter- 
mination. "  I  demand  once  more  that  you  put  these 
fellows  off,"  he  said  savagely  to  the  conductor.  "  They 
have  no  right  here."  At  this,  the  conductor  threw  the 
door  wide  open,  and  invited  the  offenders  to  get  out. 

See  you  first,"  was  the  rejoinder  from  a  big 

Freshman  who  had  put  himself  forward,  while  his 
friends  shouted  with  laughter  at  the  joke.  "  Get  out 
yourself;  and  jou  too!"  he  cried  to  Sam.    "Who  in 

 be  you  ? "   at  the  same  time  strildng  out  with 

clenched  fist. 

The  only  reply  was  a  blow  which  sent  the  unfortu- 
nate man  with  a  crash  half  through  a  window,  while 
the  stalwart  and  muscular  boatman  glared  at  his  re- 
maining antagonists.  He  could  easily  have  whipped 
them  all  in  these  close  quarters,  though  more  than  one 
was  no  baby.  But  the  girl,  sobbing  violently,  and  half 
frightened  out  of  her  wits,  rushed  between  the  bellige- 
rents, and  clasped  Sam's  arm,  half  in  fear,  half  in  sup- 
plication. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Wentworth,  please  stop  !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
—  I  don't  mind  the  noise.  It's  no  matter  about  me. 
I'll  get  out  and  walk.  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid ;  only  don't 
fight." 

"  Sit  down  !  "  said  Sam,  gruffly ;  "  you  shall  do 
nothing  of  the  sort :  sit  down,  I  say  !  "  and  he  tried  to 
shake  her  off. 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  cried  the  girl :  "  this  trouble  is  all  on 
my  account.  I'll  go,  and  that  will  end  it."    And  before 


KXIGHT-EREAXTRY. 


405 


he  could  detain  her,  she  had  darted  out  through  the 
still  open  door. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  he  muttered,  looking  first  at 
his  opponents,  who  were  ready  for  a  second  attack,  and 
then  out  at  the  darkness  of  the  night.  "I  mustn't 
leave  her  here  :  she's  worse  off  than  before."  And 
amid  a  shout  of  jeering  laughter,  and  cries  of  "  Stop 
him  !  Come  back  !  "  he  too  left  the  car. 

Sam  found  his  protegee  clinging  to  the  railing  of  the 
bridge  for  support,  crying,  and  trembling  like  a  leaf. 
She  had  been  badly  frightened  at  the  rudeness  of  the 
students,  and  altogether  terrified  at  the  turn  matters 
had  taken,  and  the  breach  of  the  peace  that  ensued; 
and  in  spite  of  her  protest  to  the  contrary,  she  was  also 
terrified  at  finding  herself  alone  on  Cambridge  bridge 
at  midnight,  as  what  girl  of  seventeen  would  not  be  ? 
The  night  was  bleak,  and  she  still  had  a  childish  terror 
of  the  dark ;  and  thoughts  of  all  the  possibilities  for  evil 
connected  with  the  situation,  the  hour,  the  darkness, 
the  black  rushing  waters,  the  complete  isolation,  took 
possession  of  her,  and  quite  deprived  her  of  strength. 
She  gave  a  scream  of  terror  as  Sam  came  up. 

"  It's  only  I,"  he  said  re-assuringly.  "I  am  not  going 
to  desert  you  in  any  such  fashion  as  that.  Why  !  what 
is  it  ? "  as  she  went  on  crjdng  violently.  "  I  declare, 
you  can  hardly  stand:  take  my  arm.  I  assure  you, 
J  ou  have  nothing  to  fear  now.  I  will  see  that  no  harm 
happens  to  you,  and  that  you  reach  youi-  home  safely ; " 
and  waiting  patiently,  and  offering  such  words  of  sym- 
pathy as  the  occasion  inspired,  when  she  was  at  length 
in  some  degree  re-assured  and  soothed,  the  two  took  up 
the  line  of  march  through  the  gloom. 


406 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


It  was  not  long  as  they  walked  on  through  the  dark- 
ness, before  Sam  found  hhnself  wondering  what  manner 
of  maiden,  if  maiden  it  was,  the  fates  had  consigned  \ 
to  his  care.  A  thick  veil  had  effectually  concealed  her 
face  while  in  the  car;  he  had  not  even  thought 
whether  she  was  black  or  white  :  it  was  enough  that 
she  was  a  woman,  and  most  grossly  and  dastardly  in- 
sulted. But  now,  with  the  light  pressure  of  her  hand 
on  his  arm,  and  the  slight  touch  of  her  figure  at  his 
side,  he  could  not  help  wondering  who  she  was,  and 
what  she  was  doing  alone  and  unprotected  in  the  city 
at  that  hour.  Then  he  recollected  that  she  had  called 
him  by  name.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Wentworth ! "  she  had  said, 
using  his  name  pat  enough.  Her  voice  was  soft,  sweet, 
and  childish ;  but  he  could  not  recollect  that  he  had 
ever  heard  it  before.  Altogether,  his  curiosity  was 
more  piqued  than  he  would  have  thought  possible. 

"  You  must  think  it  strange,"  said  the  girl,  artlessly, 
breaking  the  silence  after  a  time,  "  that  I  should  be  in 
Boston  so  late  alone." 

"  I  should  judge  it  to  be  rather  an  unusual  experience 
on  your  part  at  least,"  returned  Sam. 

"Yes,  indeed.  I  almost  never  go  to  Boston,  espe- 
cially of  an  evening.  I  went  this  afternoon  with  aunty, 
and  she  told  me  to  wait  for  her  at  the  horse-car  station 
till  she  came.  I  waited  for  her  from  half-past  five  in 
the  afternoon  till  twelve,  and  then  I  thought  I  must 
go." 

"I  should  say  so." 

"But  I  am  terribly  worried  about  aunty.  I  can't 
think  what  can  have  happened  to  her,  though  I  thought 
perhaps  she  might  not  have  noticed  me  in  the  car-office, 
and  so  have  gone  home." 


KXTGHT-ERRAXTRY. 


407 


"  Then  I  take  it  that  you  have  had  no  tea  to-night." 

"  Oh,  no ;  but  I  don't  care  for  that.  I  have  no  fears 
now  except  that  something  may  be  the  matter  with 
aunty." 

Sam,  as  his  companion's  weight  became  more  and  more 
perceptible,  thought  that  there  might  need  be  fears  for 
others  besides  "aunty"  if  they  had  much  farther  to 
walk. 

"  Do  you  live  near  the  square  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Nearly  a  mile  farther  on,"  she  replied,  with  a  little 
sigh  :  and  there  seemed  no  alternative  but  to  keep  on 
till  the  long,  dark  walk  should  at  last  come  to  an  end. 
The  way  was,  however,  not  irksome  to  Sam;  for  his 
companion,  unnaturally  nervous  and  excited  by  the 
events  of  the  evening,  prattled  on  in  a  way  her  naturally 
shy  disposition  would  have  rendered  impossible  at 
another  time. 

"  I  made  every  one  of  those  handkerchiefs  you  wore 
in  the  races  summer  before  last,  with  my  own  hands. 
Aunty  said  she  couldn't  be  bothered  with  such  things, 
though  she  was  gracious  enough  to  say  that  I  might 
do  it,"  she  said,  after  a  time. 

"  I  never  knew  till  now  how  much  we  were  obliged 
to  her,"  returned  Sam,  as  the  recollection  of  the  pretty 
little  girl  whom  he  had  taken  Villiers  in  to  see  flashed 
across  his  mind,  "  or  to  you." 

"  Oh,  they  were  such  pretty  colors  that  I  really 
enjoyed  making  them,  though  I  found  it  harder  work 
than  I  thought  it  could  be.  I  had  just  come  to  live 
with  aunty  then,  and  had  never  sewed  much.  I  was 
such  a  little  girl  —  only  fifteen." 

"  And  now  you  are  such  an  aged  person,  and  so  over- 
grown," returned  Sam,  much  amused. 


408 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


"  Oh,  no,"  slie  replied,  laughingly  ;  "  only  I  thought 
perhaps  you  wouldn't  remember  me  from  so  long  ago." 

"  Yes,  indeed.  I  remember  Miss  Leigh  perfectly 
well,  —  Ruth  Leigh ;  "  and  he  repeated  the  words  half 
sadly,  as  he  thought  of  the  joyous,  happy  time  of  that 
Freshman  year,  —  so  long  ago,  it  seemed.  He  might 
almost  have  said,  with  Ruth,  "  I  was  such  a  little  hoy 
then." 

"  I  always  wondered,"  he  continued,  as  the  scenes 
of  those  Freshman  days  came  up  fresh  in  his  recollec- 
tion, "  if  you  could  be  the  —  that  woman's  daughter  ;  " 
the  "  she-dragon's,"  he  had  almost  said.  His  companion 
flushed,  though  protected  by  the  darkness,  at  this  unex- 
pected evidence  of  the  student's  interest  in  her. 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed !  I  am  not  her  daughter,"  she  re- 
turned, with  a  dash  of  indignation.  "I  call  her  '  aunty,' 
but  she  is  only  a  cousin  of  papa's ;  though  the  only 
relation  that  I  have  in  the  world.  He  said  that  she 
would  take  care  of  me ;  and  so,  when  he  died,  I  came  to 
live  with  her :  though,  if  he  had  known,  I  am  sure  he 
would  have  arranged  differently." 

"  I  always  used  to  think  of  her  as  a  sort  of  she- 
dragon,"  said  Sam. 

"  It  isn't  so  much  that,"  continued  Ruth,  eagerly. 
"  I  think  she  intends  to  be  kind  to  me  ;  but  her  ways 
and  ideas,  and  manner  of  life,  are  so  different  from 
papa's,  and  so  different  from  any  thing  I  could  evei* 
become  accustomed  to,  or  even  like,  and  sometimes  I 
can't  help  showing  how  I  feel ;  and  then  aunty  gets 
very  angry  with  me,  and  tells  me  that  I  am  rebellious, 
and  possessed  with  vanity  and  pride." 

Sam  laughed,  in  spite  of  himself,  at  the  artless  manner 


KNIGHT-EREAXTEY. 


409 


with  which  this  charge  against  her  character  was  related ; 
and  the  girl  laughed  too,  though  a  little  nervously. 

"  But  the  worst  of  all  is,  Mr.  Wentworth,"  she  con- 
tinued, as  if  plainly  bent  on  divulging  all  her  troubles, 
"  that  I  haven't  been  to  school  a  day  since  I  came  to 
Cambridge  ;  and  I  am  forgetting  entirely  my  music, 
that  papa  was  so  fond  of,  and  took  so  much  pains  to 
have  me  carefully  instructed  in.  I  know  he  intended 
and  wished  that  I  should  go  to  school,  and  continue  on 
with  music ;  for  he  said  so,  and  ^Tote  so  to  aunty. 
It  isn't  for  lack  of  money,  either ;  for  papa  told  me  there 
would  be  enough  for  me.  I  don't  mind  doing  house- 
work, and  making  bonnets  ;  though  it  isn't  pleasant, 
when  you  see  no  prospect  of  ever  doing  any  thing  else." 

"  I  should  say  as  much,"  exclaimed  Sam,  indignantly. 
"  She  is  a  she-dragon,  indeed." 

"I  really  think,"  said  Ruth,  eagerly,  as  if  determined 
to  do  her  relative  full  justice,  "  that  aunty  is  honest- 
minded  in  what  she  does.  She  claims  that  I  have  had 
schooling  enough,  when  I  can  read  and  write  :  says 
music  is  a  vanity  and  a  snare,  and  that  what  a  woman 
wants  to  know  is  how  to  cook,  wash,  iron,  and  sew. 
And  all  this  I  have  certainly  learned  to  do,  during  the 
past  two  years.  Aunty  is  my  guardian  ;  and,  of  course, 
as  long  as  she  is,  I  can  only  submit.  But  I  have  so 
longed  to  ask  some  one  whether  a  change  could  not  be 
made  ;  for  when  I  am  twenty-one  it  will  be  too  late,  I 
fear." 

Sam  was  silent,  thinking. 

"  I  know  you  must  think  me  very  bold,  Mr.  "Went- 
worth, to  make  all  these  complaints  to  you  ;  but  I  have 
so  longed  to  tell  some  one  ;  and  I  haven't  a  single  friend, 
or  acquaintance  even." 


410 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  By  Jove  !  "  said  Sam,  with  commingled  excitement 
and  indignation.  "  This  matter  must  be  looked  into, 
and  something  must  be  done.  I  am  awfully  ignorant 
myself  about  business,  and  guardians,  and  the  like ; 
but  I  know  a  body  must  have  some  rights.  I'll  take 
Yilliers  into  the  secret ;  and  he  will  pull  you  through 
your  difficulties." 

"  Mr.  Villiers ! "  exclaimed  Ruth  dubiously ;  for 
Sam's  words  had  somehow  struck  a  chill  to  her  hopes. 

He  is  the  tall  young  gentleman  whose  eyes  look 
through  you  so,  isn't  he  ?  " 

Sam  laughed  at  this  rather  ingenuous  description  of 
his  friend.  "  His  eyes  are  a  little  penetrating  sometimes ; 
but  he  is  just  the  most  splendid  fellow  in  the  world." 

"  Mr.  Yilliers  dislikes  me.  I  know  that  from  the 
way  he  used  to  look  at  me ;  and  I  should  be  terribly 
afraid  of  him.  If  you  please,  Mr.  Wentworth,  I  would 
rather  you  should  say  nothing  to  your  friend,  or  to  any 
one,  if  you  please.  Promise  me  that  you  will  not.  Oh, 
please  promise  me  ;  for  I  should  not  have  spoken  to 
you  as  I  have,  if  any  one  else  was  to  hear  about  it." 

Sam  promised,  of  course. 

"  You  have  been  very  kind,  and  I  thank  you  for  it," 
she  continued ;  and,  with  a  soft  "  Good  night,"  Ruth 
disappeared  into  the  house,  which  they  had  at  last 
reached,  while  Sam  slowly  and  thoughtfully  made  his 
way  to  his  room. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  he  looked  into  the  shop  next 
day  to  see  how  his  charge  of  the  night  before  was  com- 
ing on.  She  was  there,  and  alone,  as  it  chanced,  and 
received  him  with  a  mixture  of  cordiality,  modesty,  and 
simple  grace,  that  was  very  pleasing.    The  rear  of  the 


KNIGHT-EEPvAXTRY. 


411 


store  was  partitioned  off,  and  fnrnislied  for  a  sitting  or 
sewing  room,  and  was  altogether  cosey  and  comfort 
able.  Into  this  sanctum  Ruth  blushingiy  invited  him. 
"  Aunty "  was  at  home,  resting  after  the  worry  and 
fatigue  of  the  previous  night.  She  had  thought  to  find 
Ruth  at  home,  having  made  the  appointment  for  the 
car-office  in  Cambridge,  and  had  been  thoroughly  fright- 
ened at  her  non-appearance,  and  for  once  entirely  affec- 
tionate in  her  greeting. 

While  Ruth  was  telling  her  story,  Sam  took  a  good 
look  at  her ;  for  not  only  had  his  love-affair  of  the  pre- 
ceding year  quite  put  the  little  girl  that  he  used  to 
peep  at  through  the  window  out  of  his  recollection, 
but  Ruth  herself  had  changed  not  a  little.  Fastidious 
beyond  measure  as  he  was  at  this  time,  and  prone  to 
speak  harsh  words  against  any  thing  feminine,  he  was 
yet  fain  to  nod  approval  as  he  finished  his  survey.  A 
fresh,  delicate,  sensitive  face,  small  and  regular  features, 
a  forehead  low  and  beautifully  proportioned,  with  an" 
abundance  of  wavy  brown  hair,  and  a  countenance  that 
changed  expression  as  rapidly  as  the  varying  emotions 
which  it  portrayed,  so  that  one  might  indeed  read  her 
soul  through  it,  —  that  was  what  he  saw.  Her  figure 
was  slight,  supple,  and  finely  moulded;  and  she  still 
wore  her  black  dress.  He  noticed  that  the  little  fore- 
finger was  rough  from  constant  use  of  the  needle ;  but 
the  hand  was  perfect  for  all  that.  Another  would  have 
seen  at  most  a  very  pretty  little  milliner :  he  saw, 
with  the  recital  of  her  wrongs  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  a 
young  lady  tenderly  reared  and  carefully  educated  dur- 
ing her  girlhood,  condemned,  by  circumstances  which 
she  was  powerless  to  control,  to  an  existence  of  the  most 


412 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


uncongeni£Ll  companionship  and  unmitigated  drudgery. 
Moreover  here  was  an  opportunity  to  exercise  valor 
and  discretion,  (so  often  that  better  part  of  valor,)  in 
looking  after  her  rights,  and  reinstating  her  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  those  privileges  and  opportunities  which  she 
craved  so  earnestly,  and  which  were  her  right  if  her 
story  was  a  true  one,  as  he  could  not  for  a  moment 
doubt  it  to  be. 

The  days  and  weeks  of  the  term  slipped  away ;  and, 
though  Sam  continued  to  "look  in"  frequently  at  the 
shop,  the  question  of  a  change  in  Ruth's  condition  was 
never  brought  up  in  those  little  talks,  which  indeed 
were  short  and  fragmentary.  The  matter  was  one  which 
Sam  fully  intended  to  look  into  "by  and  by,"  though 
when  or  in  what  manner  he  was  unable  even  to  guess. 

One  cold  and  rainy  evening  Sam  had  met  Ruth  going 
home  alone,  and  quite  unprotected  from  the  storm  that 
was  raging.  "  Ho  I  "  said  he,  stopping  short,  "  this  is  a 
pretty  go !  why,  this  will  never  do ; "  and  stripping  off 
his  own  great-coat,  he  had  wrapped  her  securely  in 
its  folds,  and  sheltered  her  with  his  umbrella  till  she 
reached  home.  He  had  chidden  her  too,  gruffly  but 
kindly,  giving  her  a  very  lecture  on  the  perils' of  expos- 
ure to  such  a  November  storm.  Then,  though  not 
without  a  protest,  and  a  feeling  that  he  was  not  doing 
exactly  as  he  ought,  but  yielding  to  her  determined 
expression  that  he  should  not  depart  until  he  was  warm 
and  dry,  he  had  entered  her  home.  Aunty  was  away 
somewhere ;  and  the  two  had  lighted  the  fire,  made  the 
tea  together,  and  passed  an  hour  of  perfect  enjoyment. 
The  ice  once  broken,  he  found  his  way  to  the  house 
often  of  an  evening.    Was  not  tliis  young  lady  in  dis- 


KXIGHT-ERPvAXTEY. 


413 


tress,  needing  his  assistance  and  protection?  and  was 
not  lie  in  good  time  to  reinstate  her  in  the  enjoTment 
of  her  own  ? 

As  for  Ruth,  —  girlish,  affectionate,  conhding  Ruth,  — 
was  not  this  ambrosial  Jimior,  with  his  curling  chestnut 
locks,  his  ruddy  and  honest  and  cheery  face  (for  some- 
how the  young  fellow  forgot  all  his  lugubrious  thoughts 
and  feelings  when  in  her  presence,  and  was  his  natural 
self),  his  broad  shoulders,  and  his  fatherly  and  protect- 
ing manner,  her  very  hero  of  heroes  ?  Her  yeneration 
for  him  was  of  earlier  growth  than  the  night  when  he 
rescued  her  from  insult.  Away  back  in  those  fir.t-t  days 
at  Cambrido'e,  when  the  world  had  seemed  all  oTief  to 
her  childish  heart,  his  cheery  presence  when  he  came 
smiling  into  the  store  to  order  neckties,  and  white  and 
pink  silk  handkerchiefs  for  the  regatta,  had  left  its 
impression  deep  in  her  memory.  Though  from  time  to 
time,  when  her  acquaintance  with  him  Avas  ripening 
into  intimacy,  she  gaye  him  a  A'ery  full  account 
of  herself,  there  was  one  chamber  in  her  heart  whose 
secrets  were  neyer  so  carefully  guarded  as  when  he  was 
present.  She  did  not  tell  him  how  she  had  peeped  into 
a  catalogue,  and  read  the  scanty  story  that  it  had  to 
tell,  or  with  what  eager  excitement  she  had  deyoured 
the  account  of  his  yictories  in  the  six-oar;  or  how  she 
had  got  a  glimpse  at  a  rank-list  that  very  fall,  and  with 
a  thrill  of  pleasure  found  his  name  high  up  in  it :  or 
that,  reading  his  name  among  the  ''part"  men  of  the 
"  Junior  exhibition  "  of  that  year,  she  had  stolen  away 
21  her  most  becoming  hat  and  her  newest  gown,  and 
attended  the  exercises  in  the  old  chapel  on  that  mellow 
October  morning,  when  she  had  thought  his  Greek 


414 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


dissertation  a  most  wonderful  piece  of  oratory,  and  the 
Greek  language  altogether  charming.  All  this  time  she 
had  regarded  him  as  the  very  pink  of  perfection ;  aud 
the  sight  of  him  was  alone  enough  to  quicken  her  heart- 
beats. And  now,  —  now  that  her  god  had  rescued  her 
from  danger,  and  taken  her  under  his  care  and  protec- 
tion ;  now  that  Sam  not  only  condescended  to  notice 
her,  but  even  took  pains  to  be  polite  and  entertaining, 
to  sympathize  with  her  troubles,  and  plan  a  better  con- 
dition, to  be  as  other  mortals  while  in  her  company,  and 
even  to  accept  her  hospitalities,  —  she  felt,  with  all  the 
depth  and  strength  of  her  sensitive  nature,  that  she 
could  live  for  him  or  die  for  him. 

Thus  it  came  about,  that,  as  the  days  and  weeks  of 
the  term  passed  silently  away,  Sam  drifted  steadily  and 
surely,  though  slowly,  into  an  intimacy  which  boded 
nothing  but  ill.  Very  disinterested,  he  assured  himself 
he  was,  seeking  only  Ruth's  welfiire,  and  looking  for- 
ward only  till  the  time  should  come  when  he  should  be 
the  means  of  restoring  her  to  the  lot  which  of  right 
belonged  to  her ;  very  grave  and  dignified,  and  grand- 
fatherly  too,  in  his  bearing  towards  her :  but  still  uncon- 
sciously pleased  to  have  the  charge  of  so  fresh  and 
beautiful  a  life  ;  unconsciously  as  yet  flattered  to  feel 
his  power  to  make  her  happy  or  wretched,  for  it  needed 
but  a  smile  to  make  her  gay,  or  a  frown  to  make  her 
tremble,  as  he  soon  discovered ;  and  all  this  time  drifting 
into  a  tangle  which  would  surely  be  a  woeful  puzzle  to 
extricate  himjielf  from  when  he  should  awaken  to  a  full 
realization  of  the  situation. 


XXVI. 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 

Meantime  it  began  to  go  the  rounds  of  college 
gossip,  as  such  matters  inyariably  will,  that  Wentworth 
of  the  Junior  class  "  had  a  soft  thing  on  that  mighty 
pretty  little  milliner  in  the  square."  The  story  of  the 
disturbance  in  the  car  had  leaked  out ;  and  as  it  came 
from  the  party  who  were  in  the  wrong,  and  who  had 
had  the  worst  of  the  fight  as  far  as  it  went,  they  had 
given  it  their  own  coloring.  This,  together  with  the 
fact  of  his  intimacy  with  the  girl,  which  was  a  matter 
of  observation  for  any  one,  furnished  the  framework  for 
a  story  that  would  have  been  obnoxious  to  any  decent 
young  fellow,  most  especially  to  our  high-spirited  hero. 
Before  the  end  of  the  term,  he  was  in  everybody's 
mouth ;  envied  by  some,  condemned  by  more,  but  a 
marked  man  in  every  one's  eyes  ;  the  affair  discussed  in 
s  way  that  would  have  made  his  blood  boil  had  he 
known  what  everybody  else  knew,  —  that  is,  everybody 
except  Villiers  and  himself. 

He  had  told  his  friend  about  his  adventure  the  very 
next  day,  thinking  it  a  coincidence  worthy  of  remark, 
that  it  should  have  been  his  fortune  to  protect  the  little 
girl  whom  he  had  thought  so  pretty  two  years  before, 
and  whom  both  had  afterwards  forgotten.    He  had 

415 


416 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


wanted  to  tell  him  her  story  too,  and  apply  to  him  foi 
counsel,  put  her  case  in  his  hands  ;  but  that  he  had 
promised  not  to  do.  He  had  hinted  at  her  being  some- 
thing different  from  what  she  seemed,  belonging  to  a 
different  station  in  life  from  the  one  she  now  filled,  till 
Villiers's  gray  eyes  had  expressed  an  astonishment  that 
warned  him  to  stop,  if  he  proposed  keeping  his  promise. 
But  he  had  very  carefully  refrained  from  letting  Vil- 
liers  know  any  thing  about  his  growing  intimacy  with 
Kuth  ;  and  the  latter  never  once  suspected  that  the  mid- 
night adventure  had  not  been  the  last  of  it,  till  one 
morning  the  story  that  had  been  in  every  one's  mouth 
burst  upon  his  astonished  ears.  He  lost  no  time  in 
seeking  Sam  out,  though  a  little  dazed,  and  not  quite 
comprehending  it  all. 

It  happened  that  Tom  Hawes  had  been  before  him. 

"  It's  an  everlasting  lie,  the  whole  of  it,  Charley," 
was  Tom's  exclamaiton  when  the  news  reached  him. 

"  It  does  look  a  little  fishy,  that's  a  fact,  —  that  part 
about  their  driving  Sam  off  the  car.  He  isn't  the  man 
to  run  away  from  Brackett  and  his  crew,"  returned 
Longstreet. 

"  You  may  believe  he  isn't :  the  lie  sticks  right  out 
there.  And,  as  for  the  girl  part,  you  may  bet  he's  all 
right  there  too." 

"  Why  in  thunder  don't  he  go  for  those  Freshmen, 
and  most  everlastingly  clean  them  out  ?  "  and  the  little 
Junior  strode  about  with  his  irresistibly  comical  air. 
"  I  would." 

"  The  chances  are  he  knows  nothing  about  it  at  all," 
replied  Tom  ;  and  I'm  going  to  tell  him ;  for  though  it's 
none  of  my  business  what  girl  he  goes  to  see,  or  what 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 


417 


else  he  does,—  though  I  would  bet  my  head  on  his  doing 
the  right  thing  anywhere,  for  there  isn't  a  mean  streak 
in  him, — I  can't  have  that  Brackett  and  his  crowd 
cocking  their  hats  at  me,  and  winking  at  each  other, 
as  though  they  had  regularly  cleaned  out  the  whole 
Junior  class.    If  Sam  don't  thrash  him,  I  ehall." 

"Then  he  is  doomed,"  said  Longstreet,  solemnly:  "a'o 
in,  old  boy." 

Thereupon  the  glum  boatman  had  sought  out  his 
friend,  and  in  his  blunt  fashion  had  told  him  the  story 
as  it  was  told  him. 

"  I  couldn't  believe  it  myself,  Sam,  and  I  thought 
you  ought  to  know  it,  and  that  you  didn't ;  and  I  see  I 

was  right.    Of  course  it's  all  a  lie,  old  fellow;"  and 

he  squeezed  Sam's  hand.  "  You  needn't  say  a  word;" 
for  the  look  of  blank  astonishment  that  had  overspread 
Sam's  face  had  been  more  eloquent  than  words.  "  But 
my  advice  to  you  is,  to  clean  it  up.  Call  on  me  if  you 
want  any  help ;  "  and  he  was  off,  leaving  the  student  to 
his  reflections. 

Sam  had  been  as  one  struck  dumb.  Then  the  indig- 
nation born  of  the  consciousness  of  the  most  perfect 
integrity  surged  tlirough  him ;  and  his  face  flushed 
darkly.  Again,  as  after  a  time  his  thoughts  grew  more 
dispassionate,  and  he  was  able  to  look  at  his  intimacy 
with  Ruth,  and  consider  it  as  it  would  necessarily 
appear  to  another,  he  realized  fully  the  mistake  he  had 
made,  the  wrong  he  had  done  in  risking  the  possibility 
of  her  name  being  coupled  with  his,  when  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  case  such  an  association  could  only 
be  to  her  discredit.  He  was  penitent  enough,  but  that 
did  not  cure  the  mischief.    Perplexed  though  he  was, 


418 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


and  by  no  means  seeing  clearly  the  course  which  would 
with  consistency  and  lionor  lead  him  out  of  difficulties 
which  beset  him,  he  would  at  least  have  gone  no  far 
ther,  had  it  not  been  for  the  ill-timed  though  well- 
meant  interference  of  Villiers.  He,  filled  with  astonish- 
ment and  alarm,  came  just  at  the  time  when  the  young 
man's  wounds  were  most  sensitive  and  most  easily 
irritated,  and  by  his  firm,  persevering,  and  unflinching 
endeavor  to  mend  matters,  roused  all  the  opposition 
and  independence  in  Sam's  nature. 

Villiers  fully  expected  that  his  friend  would  deny 
point-blank  all  acquaintance  with  Ruth,  except  what 
might  naturally  result  from  the  episode  when  he  had 
been  her  champion ;  and  when  Sam  by  his  silence  ad- 
mitted the  intimacy  between  them,  his  face  grew  white 
as  if  with  sudden  fear  in  a  way  that  Sam  had  never 
seen  before. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  looking  at  me  in  that 
fashion?"  he  exclaimed,  turning  square  upon  Villiers, 
and  looking  with  wrathful  gaze  into  those  sad,  calm, 
honest  gray  eyes.  ^'You  don't  for  a  moment  believe 
that  there  has  been  or  can  be  any  thing  unworthy  in 
my  conduct  towards  that  girl?  Say  you  don't,  or,  by 
 ,  let  our  acquaintance  end  here  and  forever  !  " 

"  If  I  thought  that,"  said  Villiers,  gravely,  "  I  should 
not  be  here." 

"  Well,  then,  why  in  the  devil's  name  do  you  come 
here  preaching  me  a  sermon?" 

"  Because,"  returned  Villiers,  firmly,  "  I  want  you  to 
break  off  your  intimacy  and  acquaintance  with  her  at 
once  and  altogether.  It  is  the  only  safety  for  you 
both." 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 


419 


"  Safety  !  "  exclaimed  Sam,  burning  with  anger. 

"  Yes,  safety,"  replied  Villiers,  firmly. 

"  And  suppose  I  do  not  choose  to  break  it  off  either 
at  once  or  at  all,  but  conclude  to  mind  my  own  affairs 
as  I  see  fit,  with  the  expectation  that  the  rest  of  the 
world  will  do  the  same  ?  "  They  were  both  pacing  the 
room,  Sam  excited  and  thoroughly  angry,  Villiers  be- 
coming more  and  more  alarmed. 

"  It  is  just  because  the  rest  of  the  world  will  not 
mind  its  own  business,  as  you  see  it  will  not,  that  I  am 
come  to  you,  as  a  friend  not  only  has  a  right,  but  is  in 
duty  bound,  to  do." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  and  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your 
good  intentions ;  but  I  prefer  to  act  in  this  matter  with- 
out interference  from  any  one." 

Villiers's  face  flushed,  and  he  turned  quickly  as  if  to 
leave  the  room.  Then,  determining  to  make  one  more 
effort,  he  said,  You  know  that  it  is  not  yourself  alone 
that  you  are  compromising.  Can  you  think  of  anything 
that  could  be  more  abhorrent  to  a  decent  girl  than 
to  have  her  name  coupled  with  yours  as  your  friend's 
has  been  and  is?" 

Sam  was  silent. 

"When  any  one's  attentions  cannot,  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  bring  any  thing  but  confusion,  is  it 
not  common  honesty  to  stop  them  ?  " 

Sam  again  had  no  reply  for  what  he  knew  and  felt  to 
be  the  truth. 

4nd,  besides  all  this,  any  one  can  see  at  a  glance 
that  this  girl  is  an  affectionate,  confiding,  romantic 
young  thing,  who  would  give  herself  away  unasked  and 
perhaps  unsought.   Such  a  gift  must  be  troublesome  and 


420  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVAED. 

perplexing  to  the  last  degree,  if  one  should  happen 
neither  to  expect  nor  care  for  it." 

Sam  had  realized  all  this  within  the  hour. 

"  I  say  you  have  no  right,  —  come,  now,  have  you, 
Sam  ? "  and  he  laid  his  hand  entreatingly  on  his 
shoulder :  "  put  all  false  honor  and  resentment  at  my 
interference  aside,  —  have  you  any  right  to  go  on  in 
such  a  matter,  in  a  spirit  of  foolish  independence,  or 
consulting  only  your  own  inclination  and  pleasure  ?  " 

Sam  had  listened  without  a  word,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
ugly  feelings  which  somehow  seemed  to  possess  him, 
had  half  determined  to  promise  that  he  would  abide  by 
his  friend's  judgment,  which  he  felt  was  right,  and  be 
governed  by  his  counsel;  but  the  words  "inclination 
and  pleasure  "  set  him  all  aflame.  He  shook  Villiers's 
hand  off  roughly. 

"If  it  is  agreeable  to  her  and  to  me,  that  our 
acquaintance  should  continue,  I  don't  know  that  it 
concerns  any  one  else,"  he  said,  savagely. 

"  Not  concern  any  one  else !  Ah,  Sam,  you  know 
better  than  that.  Do  you  forget  your  mother  ?  How 
can  it  be  possible,  when  a  man  has  a  sister,  that  his 
errors  should  not  concern  any  one  beside  himself?" 

"  No,  certainly  not !  "  exclaimed  Sam,  with  bitterness. 
"  Sisters  are  very  great  incentives  to  every  thing 
that  is  nice,  especially  if  they  happen  to  be  some  other 
man's." 

At  that  Villiers  went  his  way,  alarmed,  hurt,  dis- 
couraged ;  and  Sam,  out  of  sheer  bravado,  made  love 
outright  to  Rutb  for  the  next  two  or  three  weeks. 

Meantime  he  did  not  forget  Tom  Hawes's  advice  to 
"  clean  it  up."    He  was  just  in  the  mood  for  such  work. 


BEFOEE  THE  FACULTY. 


421 


A  spirit  of  vengeance  possessed  him  ;  and  he  chafed 
continually  till  he  could  find  an  object  on  which  to  pour 
out  his  wrath.  First  of  all  he  interrogated  his  chum. 
It  was  to  Huntingdon's  good  offices  that  the  present 
situation  of  affairs  was  due.  With  an  overweening 
desire  to  see  the  young  man  ruined  or  disgraced,  he 
had,  through  Cartier's  instrumentality,  spread  every 
possible  snare  for  him,  and  fairly  gnashed  his  teeth  at 
seeing  the  unsuspecting  3'oung  fellow  walk  safely  amia 
them  all.  He  hated  the  very  name  of  Went  worth,  and 
had  vowed  that  his  hate  should  in  some  way  have  its 
fill.  He  it  was  who  had  given  both  notoriety  and  color 
to  facts  that,  innocent  in  themselves,  would  else  have 
soon  been  forgotten ;  and  he  fairly  delighted  in  the 
young  student's  confusion. 

"  Ah,  ha ! "  said  he,  with  his  cool,  sneering  laugh, 
"  you  are  a  sly  dog,  aren't  you,  chum  ?  a  sly  dog,  by 
Jove  !  Oh,  I  know  all  about  those  things,  chum :  I  don't 
want  to  hear  a  word,"  as  Sam  made  an  indignant  ges- 
ture. "  They  want  to  be  kept  mighty  quiet,  I  know; 
and  you  are  doing  perfectly  right  in  cleaning  the  thing 
up,  and  knocking  any  one's  teeth  down  his  throat  who 
pretends  to  believe  any  thing  of  the  sort,  and  hushing 
it  up  in  every  way  you  can  :  only,"  —  and  his  face 
darkened,  and  his  eye  gleamed  wickedly,  —  "  it  won't  do 
with  me.  Save  your  righteous  indignation  for  some- 
body else.  Oh  !  ah,  ha !  "  and  he  laughed  again,  long 
and  immoderately.  "  I  never  would  have  believed  it 
of  you,  chum,  —  of  you.  The  women  are  all  alike  to  you, 
equally  objects  of  indifference,  since  a  certain  R.  T.  has 
disappeared  from  these  parts ;  aren't  they  ?  By  Jove, 
chum,  she's  a  little  beauty ;  and  I  envy  you." 


422 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


It  was  discouraging  business ;  and,  but  for  the  fires 
of  vengeance  that  burned  in  his  soul,  he  would  have 
abandoned  it  all ;  for  the  most  that  he  could  gather  was 
that  the  Freshmen  had  told  that  they  had  beaten  him 
in  a  fight  for  the  possession  of  the  last  car  one  night  in 
the  fall,  and  had  driven  him  off,  along  with  a  girl  that 
he  had  taken  up  the  quarrel  for.  There  was  no  doubt 
that  Brackett,  the  champion  and  heavy  weight  of  the 
Freshmen,  had  plumed  himself  not  a  little  on  his  victory 
over  the  crack  oar  of  the  Harvard ;  for  his  friends  had 
persuaded  him  that  such  had  been  the  result  of  the 
encounter,  and  he  was  unable  to  know  from  his  own 
recollection  of  the  matter  that  this  was  not  true.  His 
friends  had  certainly  presumed  on  the  non-contradiction 
of  the  statement,  to  put  on  airs  in  a  way  that  had 
become  particularly  offensive  to  many  of  Sam's  boating 
friends,  till  it  had  come  to  pass  that  the  feeling  pre- 
vailed very  generally  among  them  that  Sam  must  take 
the  matter  up.  Ordinarily  he  would  have  laughed  at 
the  whole  affair ;  but  at  this  time  he  was  not  himself ; 
and  as  if  to  add  fuel  to  the  flame,  Tom  Hawes  and 
Longstreet,  and  even  Lyman,  for  whose  opinion  he  had 
more  than  ordinary  regard,  intimated,  each  in  his  own 
peculiar  fashion,  that  it  was  his  duty  and  right  to  give 
Brackett  a  sound  thrashing. 

"  And  do  it  publicly  too,  by  Jove,"  said  Longstreet, 
earnestly,  rubbing  his  hands  enthusiastically  together 
at  the  prospect  of  a  disturbance.  "  Teach  the  beggar 
a  lesson,  by  Jove !  " 

"  Never  you  fear  but  that  it  will  be  done  thoroughly," 
said  Sam,  glumly,  "  or  that  it  sha'n't  be  as  open  and 
public  as  liis  — —  lies  have  been." 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 


423 


Having  marked  his  man,  he  waited  patiently  and 
quietly,  nursing  his  wrath,  till  he  should  encounter  him 
some  day  with  as  many  near  as  possible,  to  witness  the 
unfortunate  Freshman's  retraction  or  his  punishment. 
One  Thursday  noon  he  met  him  in  front  of  University, 
just  as  a  hundred  or  two  students  were  swarming  down 
the  steps  from  the  recitation-rooms,  and  as  many  more 
were  thronging  up  to  take  their  places.  Sam  con- 
fronted him,  as  with  his  friends  and  followers  he  was 
passing  on,  stopped  him,  and  regarded  him  a  moment 
with  lowering  brow  and  flashing  eye,  though  Brackett 
was  no  baby.  Instantly  a  crowd  collected  at  the  cry 
of  "  Row,  row  I  "  but  the  confusion  was  awed  into  silence 
by  Sam's  wrathful  look ;  and  all  stood  in  eager  expecta- 
tion, while  knowing  looks  and  winks,  and  waggings  of 
the  head,  were  freely  exchanged. 

"Mr.  Brackett,"  quoth  our  hero,  "I  am  informed 
that  you  have  seen  fit  to  state  that  one  night  last  fall 
you  thrashed  me  in  an  encounter  we  had  in  a  car,  and 
drove  me  out  of  it ;  and  the  story  is  all  over  the  college. 
Have  you  said  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  Freshman,  sullenly. 

"  Well,  then,  I  want  you  to  retract  it  here  and  now, 
fully  and  publicly,  and  to  state  that  it  is  utterly  and 
disgracefully  false,  —  a  downright  lie." 
,  "  Well,  I  sha'n't,"  said  Brackett,  fiercely,  "  for  you 
know  that  it  is  true." 

"  Then  take  care  of  yourself,  for  I  am  going  to  knock 
you  down;"  and  with  the  word,  in  spite  of  the  Fresh- 
man's guard,  he  felled  him  heavily  on  the  snow,  where- 
upon his  friends  assisted  him  away,  too  much  stunned 
to  renew  the  conflict. 


424  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Hi !  "  said  Longstreet,  excitedly,  "  lie  throws  up  tlie 
sponge  at  the  first  round." 

"  Shut  up  !  "  said  Sam,  grasping  him  by  the  collar, 
and  holding  him  fast ;  adding  to  the  group  of  Freshmen, 
If  there  is  anybody  else  that  thrashed  me  at  that 
time,  or  that  would  like  to  now,  the  present  is  his 
opportunity."  v 

The  gentlemen  addressed  were,  however,  occupied  in 
assisting  in  the  retreat  of  their  leader. 

Then  there  was  a  clapping  of  hands,  —  for  Brackett 
was  a  bully,  and  many  were  glad  to  see  him  humbled, 
—  a  scampering  up  the  steps  of  University  to  recitation, 
and  Sam  was  alone  with  his  friends. 

"  I  say !  "  said  Longstreet,  a  little  piteously,  "  let  go, 
can't  you?"  and  Sam  released  his  grasp  which  he  had 
retained  unconsciously,  while  there  was  a  general  laugh 
at  the  little  man's  crestfallen  look.  One  after  another, 
the  fellows  congratulated  him ;  and  for  twenty-four 
hours  he  was  a  hero  indeed;  then  the  entire  matter 
became  a  thing  of  the  past. 

There  was  more  to  come,  however.  It  so  chanced 
that  a  certain  professor  passing  by  saw  Sam's  blow,  and 
heard  his  challenge ;  and  the  next  Monday  Sam  was 
waited  upon  by  our  old  friend  the  janitor,  and  informed, 
that  as  the  Faculty  were  to  sit  in  council  that  evening, 
and  anticipated  the  pleasure  of  his  company  before 
them  some  time  during  the  session,  he  would  be  good 
enough  to  remain  in  his  room  till  he  should  be  sum- 
moned. For  the  moment,  Sam's  heart  failed  him  :  he 
had  never  thought  of  this. 

"  I  am  afraid,  chum,  that  you  have  got  yourself  into 
trouble,"  quoth  Huntingdon,  with  a  malicious  look. 

The  benevolent  Cerberus  disappeared  down  the  stairs. 


BEFOEE  THE  FACULTY. 


425 


"  I  shouldn't  wonder ;  but  I  can't  help  it  if  I  have," 
returned  Sam,  with  a  half-sigh.  Trouble  certainly  had 
come  thick  and  fast  on  him,  these  last  six  or  eight 
months  ;  every  thing  seemed  to  go  wrong,  he  thought ; 
and,  for  the  moment,  he  felt  well-nigh  discouraged.  "  I 
couldn't  have  acted  differently  under  the  circumstances.' 
No,  certainly  not." 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  can  rough  a  man  much  for 
knocking  a  man  down  who  had  lied  about  him  as  this 
one  had,  and  who  refused  to  retract :  I  gave  him  a  fair 
chance.  There  wouldn't  be  much  justice  in  it  if  they 
should." 

"  That  is  perfectly  true  ;  but  you  know  what  Faculty 
justice  is,"  replied  Huntingdon,  with  a  sneer.  You 
remember  Parsons,  don't  you,  and  what  he  got  for 
bloody  Monday  night,  when  they  mistook  him  for  me  ? 
— a  year's  suspension;  and  he  wasn't  even  in  Cambridge 
at  the  time.  And  you  have  actually  knocked  a  man 
down,  and  bunged  him  up  considerably  too,  according 
to  all  accounts.  They  say  he  won't  be  able  to  use  his 
eye  for  a  month.  However,  I  dare  say  you  will  pull 
through  all  right :  I  trust  so  ;  but  I  should  rather  not 
stand  in  your  shoes  just  now." 

Sam  waited  in  his  room  that  Monday  night  in  not  the 
most  enviable  frame  of  mind.  He  had  assuredly  wound 
himseit  up  in  a  muso  uncomfortable  snarl.  There  was 
Villiers,  who  had  been  right  in  all  this  matter,  as  he 
always  was.  He  had  deceived  him,  and  broken  friendship 
with  him.  He  felt  that  his  whole  intercoui'se  with  the 
innocent  cause  of  his  present  difficulty  had  been  wrong, 
while  he  could  not  enough  condemn  himself  for  the  lover- 
like coui'se  he  had  pursued  during  the  past  three  weeks. 


426 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


He  saw  his  folly  in  supposing  that  a  hot-headed  fellow 
like  himself  could  meet  a  girl  as  he  had  met  Ruth,  with- 
out danger  to  both  parties.  Villiers  had  been  right  in 
Saying  that  she  was  an  affectionate,  confiding,  romantic 
young  thing,  who  would  give  herself  unasked.  And 
Sam  was  free  to  confess  that  such  a  gift  was  more  than 
troublesome  and  perplexing :  he  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to 
know  what  to  do  about  it.  The  neglected  work  of  the 
term,  too,  reproached  him  silently,  but  not  the  less 
deeply.  He  could  hardly  bear  to  think  of  the  blow 
that  his  suspension  would  be  to  his  mother  and  sister. 
At  length,  a  knock  on  the  door  interrupted  his  medi- 
tations. The  janitor  with  his  kindly  face,  and  his  lan- 
tern and  bunch  of  keys,  had  come  to  escort  him  to  the 
Faculty  meeting. 

"  Take  your  coat,  Mr.  Went  worth,"  he  said,  pleasantly, 
as  Sam  started  up,  hat  in  hand,  to  accompany  him ; 
"  it  is  very  cold  without." 

"  Thank  you,  I  sha'n't  need  it;  "  and  indeed  he  did 
not.  He  could  not  have  told  whether  it  was  warm  or 
cold.  The  twain  passed  on  in  silence  over  the  snow. 
The  big  elms  made  moving  shadows,  which  the  gleams 
from  the  lantern  seemed  to  chase  and  try  to  seize  upon, 
as  they  passed  across  the  yard.  They  ascended  the 
familiar  stone  staircase.  Sam  even  found  time  to  won- 
der how  the  massive  stone  blocks  were  held  suspended 
one  over  the  other  without  any  apparent  support ;  and 
then  in  a  moment  he  was  before  the  Faculty. 

He  cast  his  eyes  coolly  around,  and  took  in  the  scene ; 
for  with  the  emergency  had  come  calm,  collected  cour- 
age to  meet  whatever  might  await  him.  It  was  the  old 
familiar  President's  room,  with  the  folding-doors  lead- 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 


427 


Lag  to  the  Regent's  room  thrown  open.  The  reverend 
President  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  at  his  usual  desk. 
The  doctor  was  also  present,  and  bowed  politely,  though 
with  an  expression  of  grave,  kindly  concern  on  his  face. 
The  Philosopher  nodded  to  him,  and  smiled;  and  several 
others  greeted  him  pleasantly.  There  were  twelve  or 
fifteen  others  of  the  corps  of  instructors,  scattered  about 
the  rooms  in  various  attitudes.  Prof.  Chubby  was 
tipped  back  in  his  chair,  nursing  one  of  his  feet.  The 
business  was  a  thoroughly  distasteful  one  to  him,  as 
became  more  and  more  manifest  as  the  session  pro- 
gressed. Two  or  three  more  were  in  a  corner  by  them- 
selves, laughing  and  talking  over  some  matters  of 
interest ;  while  others  with  stern  visages  sat  at  their 
places  ready  to  mete  out  justice  to  the  offender.  Sam 
afterwards  said,  as  he  told  the  story,  that  the  weird- 
looking  professor  of  physics  was  in  the  Regent's  room, 
zealously  rubbing  a  door-panel  with  the  palm  of  his 
hand,  trying  to  bring  out  the  fundamental  note,  and 
that  he  did  make  it  speak  "  very  successfully,  produ- 
cing an  excellent  bass. 

Presently  the  attention  of  the  company  was  called  to 
business ;  and  the  reverend  President  broke  the  silence. 

"  Mr.  Went  worth,  you  were  seen  to  strike  a  Fresh- 
man last  Thursday  about  one  o'clock,  in  front  of  Uni- 
versity Hall,  and  knock  him  down ;  and  the  student  is 
considerably  injured,  and  complaint  has  been  made 
against  you.  You  do  not  deny  that  you  did  it,  I  pre- 
sume?" 

"  Xo,  Mr.  President :  I  do  not  deny  it." 
"  What  was  the  occasion  of  such  a  proceeding,  Mr. 
Wentworth?" 


428 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  He  had  lied  about  me,  sir,  and  refused  to  retract 
the  falsehood." 

"  What  was  the  statement  he  made,  to  which  jon 
took  exception  ?    Will  you  be  pleased  to  relate  it?  " 

Sam  told  the  story  given  out  by  the  Freshman  and 
his  friends,  as  he  had  heard  it.  "  This  report  was  all 
over  the  college,  Mr.  President ;  and  I  could  not  allow 
it  to  stand.  Every  one  would  have  been  justified  in 
believing  it,  if  I  had ;  whereas  it  did  not  contain  the 
least  particle  of  truth." 

"  There  was  a  disturbance  in  a  car,  late  one  night, 
in  which  you  took  part ;  was  there  not  ?  "  asked  the 
bantam  of  the  Faculty,  in  his  shrill,  precise  voice. 

"  There  was,  sir." 

"  Then,  I  should  say  that  the  statement  which  you 
found  so  obnoxious  did  contain  '  the  least  particle  of 
truth ; '  "  and  the  professor's  lip  curled. 

"  Won't  you  state  the  facts  of  the  case,  Mr.  Went- 
worth  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  in  a  grave  and  anxious  voice. 

Sam  told  what  took  place  on  that  now  memorable 
night,  with  glowing  cheeks  and  flashing  eyes. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  he  objected  to  Brackett's  story," 
said  Mr.  Prof.  Chubby,  quite  audibly,  to  the  Philos- 
opher. 

"  No  young  gentleman  of  spirit  would  suffer  himself 
to  be  so  belied  with  impunity,"  said  the  Philosopher ; 
and  he  nodded  to  Sam,  at  the  same  time  polishing  his 
eye-glasses. 

"  What  became  of  the  girl  ?  "  asked  that  well-remem- 
bered professor  who  had  assigned  the  rooms,  in  his 
shrill,  nasal  tone. 

"  I  accompanied  her  home,  sir." 


BEFORE  THE  FACULTY. 


429 


"  Had  you  ever  met  her  before  ? "  continued  the 
quondam  curator  of  rooms. 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had,  at  that  time." 

"  But  you  had,  in  point  of  fact  ?  " 

Sam  was  silent ;  and  the  question  was  repeated  more 
shrilly  than  before. 

"  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  the  matter," 
said  Mr.  Prof.  Chubby,  in  his  brusque,  off-hand  manner. 

"lN"othing  at  all,  of  course,"  said  the  Philoso-nher, 
turning  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and  rubbing  his  glasses 
more  vigorously  than  ever. 

There  was  a  silence,  broken  only  by  a  snort  on  the 
part  of  the  last  interrogator  ;  and  the  President  looked 
inquiringly  around. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Wentworth  !  "  and  the  bantam  half  bowed 
to  the  President,  "  you  say,  sir,  that  all  this  happened 
last  fall ;  at  what  time  during  the  fall  ?  how  long  ago  ?  " 

"  About  ten  weeks  I  should  say,  sir." 

"  Ah,  yes ;  about  ten  weeks  ago,"  superciliously. 
"  How  happens  it  that  you  have  permitted  this  most 
obnoxious  story  to  remain  uncontradicted  all  this 
tune  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  of  it  till  recently,  sir." 

"  How  recently,  Mr.  Wentworth  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  first  heard  of  it  three  weeks  ago.  Then 
some  time  was  consumed  in  tracing  it  back,  and  finding 
out  who  it  came  from." 

"  And  how  long  since  you  knew  for  a  certainty  who 
the  offender  was  ?  " 

"  About  a  week,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  not  quite  under- 
standing the  drift  of  this  examination. 

"  Well,  now,  Mr.  Wentwoi  th,  why  did  you  let  the 


430  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

matter  rest  a  week,  even?  why  did  you  not  visit  the 
offender  with  your  vengeance  at  once  ?  " 

"  Because,  sir,"  returned  Sam,  a  little  contemptuously, 
but  very  politely,  "  I  thought  best  to  wait  for  a  favor- 
able conjunction  of  circumstances.  I  desired  the  most 
fitting  opportunity,  backed  by  the  strongest  inclination 
for  the  work.  There  were  times  when  my  inclination 
was  sufficient,  but  the  opportunity  failed :  it  so  chanced 
that  there  was  a  most  fortunate  conjunction  of  the  two  ^ 
at  one  o'clock  last  Thursday  afternoon,  at  which  time  I 
knocked  the  man  down,  as  I  had  proposed ; "  and  he  j 
bowed  civilly  to  the  now  irate  instructor  of  youth, 
while  a  smile  lingered  for  a  moment  on  the  faces  of 
most  of  the  company. 

"  It  was  a  most  unwarrantable  proceeding,  most 
unwarrantable,"  half  snorted  the  senior  professor,  "  to 
attack  a  student  on  his  way  to  duty.  You  would  be 
glad  to  apologize,  I  presume,  sir  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  could  not  do  that,  sir,"  returned  Sam 
politely,  "  without  admitting  myself  to  be  in  the  wrong 
from  the  first;  and  in  that  case  I  should  owe  Mr. 
Brackett  more  than  an  apology,"  at  which  the  Philoso- 
pher nodded  two  or  three  times  in  succession. 

It  appearing  that  no  one  cared  to  ask  him  in  any 
more  questions,  the  reverend  President  gravely  informed 
him  that  he  could  retire ;  and  he  made  his  way  to  his 
room,  to  speculate  on  the  event. 

To  say  that  Villiers  was  grieved  and  alarmed  at  his 
friend's  conduct,  would  convey  but  a  mild  impression 
of  his  feelings  at  this  time.  His  anxiety  during  these 
three  weeks  had  been  deep  and  unremittent.    The  inter- 


BEFOEE  THE  FACITLTY. 


431 


course  between  the  tvro  had  been  so  slight  that  he  did 
not  even  know  of  this  new  danger  that  threatened  Sam, 
that  he  had  knocked  a  man  down,  and  been  summoned 
to  attend  tlie  Faculty  meeting.  He  only  knew  that  his 
friend  was  going  very  fast  and  far  with  the  young  lady 
in  the  square  ;  and,  look  at  it  from  whatever  standpoint 
he  chose,  he  could  see  no  good  as  the  possible  result  of 
such  an  intimacy,  could  discover  nothing  but  harm  for 
them  both.  He  was  fully  determined  to  break  it  up  in 
some  way,  if  such  a  thing  should  be  possible ;  and  he 
was  all  the  more  inclined  to  persevere,  because  he  felt 
convinced  that  the  young  man  had  been  drawn  in  by 
circumstances  to  a  relation  which  he  never  contem- 
plated in  the  outset :  so  he  made  up  his  mind  to  save 
him  from  the  disgrace  of  an  unworthy  action,  or  the 
necessity  of  fulfilling  a  damaging  duty.  The  only 
problem  was  how  to  accomplish  this  result. 

Pondering  over  these  matters,  and  torn  by  conflicting 
emotions  and  doubts,  he  strode  along,  on  this  Monday 
afternoon,  towards  the  city.  It  was  one  of  winter's 
glorious  days.  The  air,  clear,  crisp,  fresh,  and  still, 
tinted  the  horizon  and  the  distant,  snow-covered  hills 
vuth  a  delicate  roseate  hue  ;  on  either  side  the  pure 
white  landscape  stretched  away :  hundreds  of  gay 
equipages,  with  their  merry  passengers  and  jingling 
bells,  gave  life  to  the  scene.  Presently  the  river,  frozen, 
and  covered  with  snow,  caught  the  deep  purple  and  red 
of  the  dying  sun,  and  shone  magnificently.  Over  the 
city  in  front  of  him,  the  moon,  nearly  full,  hung  sus- 
pended in  the  clear  air,  lending  her  reflected  rays  to 
prolong  the  light  of  the  dying  day ;  while  the  thousands 
of  windows,  rising  one  above  another  on  the  liill  before, 


432 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


threw  back  the  fading  sunbeams  m  dazzling  showers 
of  purple  and  saffron  and  golden  light.  He  strode  on 
through  the  snow,  and  plunged  into  the  gloomy  streets 
of  the  city,  just  as  the  pageant  faded  away. 

Unconscious  of  his  path,  he  passed  slowly  along  the 
crowded  streets,  until  at  last  he  found  himself  quite  at 
the  opposite  quarter  of  the  city,  and  before  the  entrance 
of  the  finest  of  her  Catholic  churches.  It  was  a  week 
of  musical  carnival  with  the  Catholics  ;  and  some  festi- 
val of  the  Church  was  being  celebrated  in  grand  style 
within.  Unwittingly  he  entered  the  edifice,  and  stood 
with  bared  head  and  reverential  mein,  gazing  upon  the 
kneeling  thousands,  as  the  low  chanting  of  the  priests 
came  in  a  monotone  from  the  chancel.  Of  a  sudden, 
the  organ  pealed  forth  a  familiar  strain ;  and  that  air  so 
familiar  to  him,  and  so  well  loved,  that  hymn  to  the 
Virgin,  was  given  with  enrapturing  effect.  High  above 
the  organ  and  the  accompanying  chorus,  soared  the 
clear,  thrilling  soprano,  bearing  aloft  the  impassioned 
music. 

The  young  student  stood  spell-bound.  The  church, 
with  its  snow-white  pillars  and  walls,  its  kneeling 
throng,  its  gorgeously  attired  priests,  its  thousand 
candles,  and  clouds  of  rising  incense,  faded  from  his 
sight.  He  stood  once  more  in  the  homelike  sitting-room 
where  he  first  heard  these  notes.  His  love  for  the  place 
and  its  precious  inmates  rose  once  more,  fresh  and  green. 
He  remembered  the  deep-seated  anxiety  of  that  gentle 
woman,  lest  her  son,  the  hope  of  her  life,  should  go 
astray  ;  the  promise  he  gave  that  blue-eyed  girl,  by  the 
river  bank,  years  ago.  Surely  now  is  the  time  for  him 
to  keep  his  word  to  her  !    This  is  the  day  to  which  she 


BEFORE  THE  5  ACULTY. 


433 


looked  forward  with  instinctive  dread.  He  remembered 
how  much  he  owed  them  both,  for  the  many  happy 
hours  they  had  given  him  ;  and,  as  the  music  suddenly 
ceased,  he  hurried  from  the  church,  resolved  that  at 
least  they  should  have  full  warning  of  the  impending 
danger. 

Two  hours  later,  just  as  the  Faculty  had  voted,  after 
a  long  discussion,  to  suspend  Wentworth  of  the  Junior 
class,  he  worded  the  following  note  :  — 

My  dear  Mrs.  Wentworth,  —  If  you  can  possibly  find  a 
reason  which  will  make  it  necessary  for  you  to  call  your  son 
home  for  a  time,  it  would  be  well  to  do  so  at  once.  Believe  me, 
it  is  my  firm  conviction  that  it  is  absolutely  indispensable  for 
his  well-bemg  that  he  leave  Cambridge  without  delay,  and  for 
some  little  time.  I  hope  I  may  impress  you  sufficiently  with  the 
necessity  for  this  change.    Very  truly  yours, 

George  Yilllers. 


4 


XXVII. 

SUSPENSION. 

The  news  of  Wentwortli's  suspension  fell  like  a 
thunderbolt  from  a  cloudless  sky,  and  was  all  over  the 
college  before  recitation  next  morning.  One  of  the 
tutors  had  told  a  student,  the  student  spread  the  news 
at  prayers,  and  in  a  twinkling  everybody  heard  of  it, 
unlucky  Sam  among  the  rest ;  and  he  was  immediately 
the  centre  of  a  group  of  excited,  indignant,  and  sympa- 
thizing friends. 

"  Oh,  well,"  was  L3rman's  comment,  "  it  is  just  what 
you  might  expect  from  the  Faculty:  their  ideas  of 
justice  are  as  yet  in  the  egg,"  which  expression  of  sen- 
timent met  with  the  most  uuiversal  approval. 

"  We  had  better  not  stand  it  any  longer,  fellows :  they 
have  roughed  us  long  enough,"  exclaimed  Longstreet, 
excitedly.  Breakfast  waited  while  this  little  indigna- 
tion-meeting was  in  session.  "  It  is  high  time  to  take 
a  stand,  and  let  them  understand  that  we  are  not 
going  to  be  abused  in  this  fashion  any  longer.  There 
wouldn't  be  a  dozen  men  left  by  Class  Day  except  the 
digs,  if  they  had  their  way,  confound  'em  !  " 

"  That's  so !  "  echoed  Lewis  and  Hawes  and  a  score 
besides. 

"  But  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about  it,  Charley  ?  " 

434 


srsPExsiox. 


435 


said  Lyman,  coolly.  I,  for  one,  don't  see  ho^v  we  are 
going  to  help  ourselves."* 

"Do?"  shrieked  the  little  Junior.  "We'll  have  a 
rebellion :  that's  what  we'll  do ;  and  they  shall  take 
Wentworth  back,  or  else  try  their  hand  at  running  the 
machine  without  us.  According  to  my  taste,  it  would 
be  mighty  nice  to  lay  off  and  let  the  Prex.  and  the  old 
Doc.  and  the  rest  of  them  go  to  prayers,  and  find  no- 
body there :  he  might  pray  just  as  long  as  he  wanted  to 
then,  and  welcome." 

There  was  a  general  laugh  at  this  speech :  for  that 
was  more  than  the  graceless  students  permitted  the 
Doctor  to  do  those  cold  mornings.  They  gave  him  a 
certain  amount  of  time  for  his  ^^rayer ;  and  if  he  forgot 
himself  (as  in  fact  was  not  often  the  case),  and  seemed 
disposed  to  prolong  the  exercise  beyond  the  prescriptive 
limit,  there  was  such  a  shufihng  of  feet,  coughing,  and 
confusion,  that  the  reverend  divine  forthwith  took  the 
liint,  and  brought  his  devotions  to  a  close. 

"  And  I  tell  you,  boys,  it  would  be  just  gay  to  loaf 
and  smoke  and  lay  off,  and  see  those  wretched  in- 
structors go  to  the  recitations  to  find  nobody  there  I 
Wouldn't  it  take  them  down  some?"  and  the  little 
fellow's  eyes  glistened  with  delight  at  the  anticipated 
pleasure.    "  And,  by  the  eternal  Moses,  we  can  do  it, 

too : " 

"  I  guess  you  have  been  reading  the  '  Rebelliad,' 
Charley.  That  thmg  can't  be  done  twice.  You  cotdd 
not  get  the  fellows  to  go  in  for  it  nowadays."  Lyman 
spoke  gravely  and  seriously ;  for  it  was  apparent,  from 
the  temper  of  the  assembled  group,  that  Longstreet's 
plans  were  entertained  by  others  than  himself. 


436 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  Oh,  yes,  they  would  !  "  he  replied,  eagerly.  "  There's 
all  the  Sophs,  and  most  of  the  Freshmen,  and  one-half 
of  the  Seniors ;  and  our  men  would  go  in  of  course. 
We  never  shall  have  another  chance  like  this  :  it  is  the 
very  thing ! " 

"  You  won't  do  any  thing  so  foolish  on  my  account," 
said  Sam,  earnestly,  "  that  is,  if  you  are  my  friends,  and 
want  to  oblige  me  in  the  matter.  You  couldn't  carry 
it  through ;  enough  fellows  would  stand  aloof  to  spoil 
ever}^  thing,  and  you  would  have  to  cave  at  last, 
Charley." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  we  should  have  to  cave  at  last,"  was 
the  ingenuous  reply. 

"  And  instead  of  one  man  suspended,  there  would  be 
fifty ;  and  it  isn't  pleasant  to  be  suspended,  when  you 
really  come  to  the  point,"  said  Sam,  smiling  ruefully. 

"  Yes ;  I  suppose  they'd  make  it  Ijot  for  us.  But 
then  we'd  have  the  fun :  they  couldn't  cheat  us  out  of 
that." 

"Well,  Charley,  there  wouldn't  be  much  fun  now: 
it's  too  cold  weather.  Wait  till  it  comes  warmer,  so 
that  you  could  lay  off  under  the  trees,  and  see  those 
wretched  men  going  to  the  empty  rooms :  that  would 
do  very  much  better." 

"  No  :  I  guess  you're  right,  Sam,"  he  replied,  dolefully. 
"  There  wouldn't  be  much  fun  in  it  now ;  but  I  thought 
this  was  such  a  splendid  chance ;  and  I'm  blowed  if  I 
don't  have  that  rebellion  first  or  last !  "  And  in  truth 
the  curious  little  fellow  had  worked  for  this  with  a  zeal 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  and  had  pledged  over  half  the 
men  in  the  college  to  join  when  he  should  give  the 
word.  A  rebellion  was  the  dream  of  his  college  life,  — 
a  dream  that  wa^  never  realized. 


SUSPEXSIOX. 


437 


Sam  presently  received  notice  of  his  suspension  for 
the  remainder  of  the  year,  and  he  must  leave  Cam- 
bridge forthwith.  "  It  is  only  to  cross  the  line,  a  half- 
hour's  work,"  he  thought,  as  he  gathered  his  traps 
together  ;  "  and  I  may  as  well  be  off  at  once."  He  had 
inveighed  against  Cambridge  often  enough  of  late  ;  but 
now  that  he  was  to  leave  it,  he  was  disconsolate.  All  his 
fxiends,  the  entire  college  in  fact,  sympathized  with  him, 
but  that  only  served  to  make  the  separation  harder; 
and  although  here  every  one  braved  him  out  in  his 
action  toward  the  Freshman,  he  felt  that  the  presump- 
tion would  be  against  him  when  once  he  should  have 
stepped  his  foot  outside.  And  the  matter  was  not  one 
that  he  felt  he  should  care  to  enlarge  upon  in  explana- 
tion of  his  situation.  The  best  way  would  be  to  keep 
shady,  he  thought  as  lie  packed  up.  I  can  tell  mother 
and  Kate  all  about  it ;  and  lurther  than  that  it  is  no 
one's  business ;  and  I  shall  have  a  splendid  time  to  dig. 
After  all,  it  won't  be  so  bad." 

"  Look  out  for  a  good  room  in  Holworthy  for  next 
year,  chum,  and  run  down  when  you  can,  won't  you  ?  " 
said  Sam  as  he  shook  Huntingdon's  hand  with  some 
of  the  feeling  of  the  old  times  when  he  had  looked 
I  upon  the  handsome  and  accomplished  student  as  a  very 
beau  ideal. 

"  You  may  trust  me  to  do  both,  chum.    I  am  vastly 
H    sorry  that  you  have  to  go  ; "  and  they  parted. 

"  Confound  him  I "  soliloquized  Huntingdon,  as  he 
turned  away.    "  I  have  no  idea  but  that  somehow  he 
I    will  make  capital  out  of  his  misfortune,  and  come  back 
all  the  better  for  it ; "  and  his  face  grew  dark.  I 
believe  I  had  better  have  kept  my  mouth  shut :  then  he 


438 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


would  have  staid  here,  and  been  certain  to  Lave  got 
into  a  nice  mess  with  that  girl,  whereas  now  he'll  be 
out  of  harm's  way.  If  he  could  have  got  himself 
expelled,  there  would  have  been  some  satisfaction  in 
that.  Well,  I  sha'n't  see  him  swelling  round  here  for 
one  good  while  :  there's  some  little  comfort  in  that." 

"  God  bless  you,  Sam  !  "  said  Tom  Hawes,  as  he 
grasped  his  hand.  "  I  am  sorry  you've  got  to  go  ;  "  and, 
in  spite  of  himself,  a  moisture  gathered  in  his  eye.  "  I 
hoped  you  would  be  in  the  Harvard  this  season  :  we 
shall  need  you  there  badly  enough."  Then  in  an 
undertone,  The  society  elections  are  coming  on  early 
next  term,  and  we'll  see  that  your  interests  don't  suffer. 
We  are  all  going  in  together,  and  you  should  be  presi- 
dent if  you  were  only  here ;  for  you  are  the  best  of  us, 
as  we  all  know." 

All  the  men,  pretty  much,  came  to  give  him  a  grasp 
of  the  hand.  "  Now,  then,  fellows,  three  cheers  for 
Sam  Went  worth,  the  martyr  to  the  right  of  protecting 
a  fellow  from  slander  and  lies  !  "  called  Longstreet ;  and 
they  were  given  with  a  ring. 

"  Three  groans  for  the  Faculty  !  "  called  Lyman ;  and 
they  were  given  most  lustily. 

"  Let  us  form  a  procession,  and  escort  him  around  the 
grounds,"  said  Lewis ;  and  the  proposition  was  accepted 
with  a  shout.  But  Sam  was  very  determined  in  his 
"  No ; "  and  at  last  the  hand-shaking  was  over.  He 
broke  away  from  his  hundred  friends,  and  was  off  with 
Villiers.  Villiers  was  the  second  person  who  was  glad 
of  Sam's  suspension,  though  for  reasons  essentially 
different  from  those  which  influenced  the  excellent  Mr. 
Huntingdon.    He  had  perceived  with  pain  Sam's  mani- 


SUSPENSION. 


439 


fest  attentions  to  Ruth  during  these  latter  weeks,  and, 
though  powerless  to  do  aught  to  arrest  his  friend  in  liis 
folly,  felt  that  it  was  horrible  to  suffer  him  to  go  on 
recklessly  and  thoughtlessly,  —  whither,  he  could  not, 
dared  not  conjecture.  The  suspension  was  a  very- 
salvation  :  so  this  friend  reasoned  and  rejoiced. 

Sam  and  Villiers  had  gone  together  to  see  Ruth  on 
the  occasion  of  Sam's  farewell.  Sam  would  not  trust 
himself  to  go  alone.  Ruth  was  well-nigh  broken-hearted 
at  learning  what  had  befallen  her  champion  and  hero, 
and  felt,  with  all  her  warm  and  girlishly  enthusiastic 
nature,  that  she  would  rather  have  died  than  have 
brought  ill  to  him.  She  meant  to  tell  him  this ;  and 
here  he  had  come  to  her  with  this  tall,  grave  man  who 
she  felt  had  always  disliked  and  distrusted  her,  and  in 
whose  presence,  and  beneath  whose  soul-reading  eyes, 
she  found  it  impossible  to  say  a  word.  Sam  had  other 
thoughts  and  purposes,  however,  than  the  mere  utter- 
ance of  condolence  and  endearing  phrases.  He  felt 
that  if  he  could  be  the  means,  even  indirectly,  of  hav- 
ing Ruth  cared  for  as  she  wished  and  had  a  right  to 
be,  then  the  events  of  the  past  weeks  might  be  in  a 
measure  redeemed;  and  his  purpose  was  to  place  the 
matter,  with  Ruth's  consent,  in  Villiers's  hands. 

Sam,  to  his  surprise,  found  it  one  of  the  most  difficult 
matters  he  had  ever  undertaken.  The  girl,  so  timid, 
so  pliable  to  his  will,  so  ready  to  devote  herself  to  him 
body  and  soul,  was  utterly  unyielding  in  this  matter 
where  her  own  welfare  was  involved ;  and  it  was  not 
till  Sam  introduced  his  own  personal  wish  that  it 
should  be  so,  —  a  reason  which  was  all-powerful  with 
her,  —  that  she  at  length  consented.    The  matter  was 


440 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


then  explained  to  Yilliers,  who  in  a  few  questions 
gathered  what  information  could  be  obtained  from  this 
source,  and  promised  Sam  to  look  the  matter  up,  and 
restore  Ruth  to  her  rights. 

"  You  put  on  the  screws,  and  straighten  every  thing 
out  as  it  ought  to  be;  will  you?"  was  Sam's  eager 
request ;  and  Villiers  promised  that  he  would,  without 
delay ;  and,  as  Mr.  Villiers's  promises  were  sacred  mat- 
ters, it  was  measurably  certain  that  Miss  Ruth's  days 
of  house-drudgery  and  trimming  bonnets  were  over. 

The  two  had  been  very  near  breaking  friendship  over 
this  girl.  Sam  had  been  hot  and  insulting,  and,  though 
sorry  enough  afterwards,  would  not  make  up  his  mind 
to  say  so.  Villiers,  though  he  felt  his  motives  to  be 
irreproachable,  was  conscious  of  having  interfered  in  a 
very  delicate  matter,  and  was  not  at  all  sure  that  he 
had  not  made  every  thing  worse ;  but  he  too  was  not 
prone  to  admit  himself  in  the  wrong.  So  they  had  gone 
on  for  more  than  three  weeks,  barely  nodding  to  one 
another  as  they  passed,  —  they  who  had  loved  each 
other,  how  well  they  never  knew  till  now.  It  had  been 
hard  work  for  both ;  and  neither  could  have  held  out 
much  longer.  When  the  suspension  came,  they  in- 
stinctively sought  each  other  out ;  and  that  which  had 
been  growing  and  struggling  in  their  hearts  burst  forth : 
they  confessed  their  faults,  and  asked  forgiveness. 

"  You  are  worth  all  the  girls  in  the  world ! "  said 
Sam,  as  the  two  big  fellows  embraced  each  other  on 
the  platform  of  the  car,  to  the  wonder  of  spectators. 
"  You  are  worth  all  the  girls  in  the  world,  Villiers  ; 
and  I  have  been  just  crazy.  By  Jove !  I  don't  know 
what  else  it  could  have  been.    But  take  good  care 


SUSPENSION. 


441 


of  her,  won't  you,  for  she  has  been  much  wronged 
on  all  hands ;  and  keep  me  posted  on  every  thing  that 
happens ;  and  come  down  as  often  as  you  can,  and  cheer 
a  fellow  up  ;  "  and  amid  much  waving  of  the  hands  the 
train  glided  slowty  out  of  the  depot,  and  the  young 
fellow  was  gone. 

Yes,  Sam  was  gone  ;  but  the  great  machine  moved 
on  just  the  same.  A  man  drops  out  of  his  place,  and  is 
soon  forgotten.  His  well-known  form  is  missed  at  reci- 
tations and  lectures  ;  there  is  a  gap  at  the  table  which 
was  wont  to  be  filled;  his  cheery  face  and  hearty 
manner  and  sprightly  talk  are  missed  for  a  time :  then 
the  void  grows  familiar,  and,  whether  he  is  married  or 
buried,  he  is  soon  forgotten. 

The  first  term  drew  to  its  close  ;  the  winter  vacation 
slipped  quietly  away ;  there  was  a  gathering  in  the  old 
halls  at  the  second  term ;  and  soon  the  happy  spring 
season  came  on  once  more.  The  river  showed  signs  of 
life,  as  the  ice,  breaking  up,  fl.oated  off ;  and  the  boats 
ventured  out.  The  ball  men  were  in  the  field  be- 
fore the  ground  had  fairly  hardened.  Then  came 
the  verdure  and  leafy  glory  of  the  spring  and  early 
summer,  then  the  hot  weather,  the  digging  for  the 
annuals  ;  Class  Day,  and  at  last  the  Juniors  were 
Seniors.    But  this  is  anticipatory. 

Although  the  shock  of  the  suspension  was  at  first 
severe,  as  the  weeks  wore  away  Sam  found  that  this 
visit  to  his  home  was  not  so  bad.  The  doctor  had 
written  Mrs.  Wentworth  a  letter,  stating  that  in  his 
opinion  the  action  of  the  Faculty  in  her  son's  case  was 
an  act  of  gross  injustice.  Sam  had  told  his  story, 
which,  taken  in  connection  with  Villiers's  note,  and  his 


442 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


own  enthusiastic  statements  in  regard  to  that  darling 
little  girl  who  was  so  fond  of  him,  reconciled  his 
mother  very  much  to  his  being  at  home  for  a  time.  He 
had  to  face  the  curiosity  of  his  neighbors ;  but  that 
soon  wore  away,  and  his  mother  and  sister  made  his  life 
as  pleasant  as  possible.  Kate  teased  him  a  good  deal,  as 
a  matter  of  course.  "  I  shall  keep  a  sharp  look-out  for 
some  more  '  Lines : '  '  To  R.  L.'  they  must  be  this  time. 
Can't  you  make  the  old  ones  do,  Sam  ?  You  might 
easily  change  so  as  to  read,  '  Maiden  of  the  auburn 
tresses.' " 

Sam  bore  this  more  than  once,  in  good-natured  silence. 

"  I  declare,  I  am  dying  of  curiosity  to  know  what 
this  young  lady  is  like." 

"  I  meant  to  bring  a  photograph ;  but  it  was  all  so 
sudden  that  I  forgot  it." 

"  Forgot  it !  "  exclaimed  Kate,  with  a  toss  of  the  head. 
"  The  idea  of  forgetting  such  a  thing !  It  was  the  most 
stupid  thing  I  ever  knew.  I  have  a  mind  to  go  to 
Cambridge  without  delay,  and  see  her  myself." 

"  Do  !  "  returned  her  brother,  half  seriously.  "  You 
would  be  more  than  paid  for  your  trouble." 

Though  Sam  was  away  from  Cambridge,  his  memory 
was  strong  among  his  friends ;  and  hardly  a  week  passed 
that  he  did  not  see  some  of  them.  They  took  pains  to 
keep  him  well  informed  on  every  matter  of  college  news ; 
and  he  thought  that  he  had  really  heard  more  pleasant 
gossip  during  his  suspension  than  ever  before. 

Villiers  came  down  regularly  every  other  Saturday, 
and  remained  till  Monday  morning ;  getting  leave  of 
absen/;e  of  the  Faculty  for  this  purpose,  in  some  mys- 


SUSPENSION. 


443 


terious  manner.  Hawes  came  to  tell  him  about  the 
society  elections,  and  how  successful  they  had  been  in 
getting  just  the  men  they  wanted.  His  chum  came 
down  once,  and  spent  an  evening  with  them  all ;  and 
it  was  quite  like  old  times  to  see  him  there.  Miss 
Eldredge  and  Will  Adams  were  Mrs.  Wentworth's 
guests  for  a  fortnight,  during  the  winter  vacation ;  and 
the  period  of  their  visit  was  replete  with  the  rural 
festivities  of  the  season.  They  were  all  surprised,  anJ 
not  ill  pleased  too,  at  receiving  a  call  from  Mr.  Cartier, 
one  day  in  the  spring.  He  had  come  for  a  call,  but 
was  easily  prevailed  upon  to  remain  with  them. 

"  I  know  we  should  not  be  keeping  you  from  any 
very  important  duties  ;  and  we  should  be  charmed  to 
have  you  with  us  as  long  as  you  can  content  yourself," 
said  Kate  ;  and  her  blue  eyes  smiled  at  him  with  a 
charm  he  was  unable  to  resist :  and,  without  knowing 
how,  he  found  himself,  for  the  time,  almost  a  member  of 
the  family. 

As  Kate  had  anticipated,  this  visit  was  a  most  pleas- 
ant  one.  She  had  told  Villiers  that  she  was  going  back 
to  Arcadia ;  and  her  life  since  that  time  had  been  in 
Arcadia ;  but  I  think  there  had  not  been  the  same 
pleasure  in  its  simple  duties  since  that  taste  of  dissipa- 
tion which  she  had  enjoyed  at  the  Tliornes'.  She  was 
as  devoted  as  ever  to  her  pursuits,  her  reading,  music, 
domestic  matters,  and  social  engagements  ;  but,  though 
she  hardly  confessed  it  to  herself,  she  had  seen  better 
things ;  and  the  remembrance  of  them  was  sweet. 
Cartier  could  tell  her  all  the  gossip  of  the  set  she 
secretl}'  wished  to  make  one  of  once  more  ;  and  they 
talked  by  the  hour,  Kate  listening  eagerly,  and  asking 


444 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAED. 


questions  with  merry  laugh  and  smiling  eyes,  at  the 
Russian's  recitals,  while  her  nimble  fingers  wove  some 
pretty  plaything. 

"  And  your  own  fortunes,  —  they  are  sufficiently  re- 
trieved, I  trust  ?  "  said  she,  glancing  at  the  luxuriously 
attired  young  man. 

"  To  a  degree,"  returned  Cartier,  half  seriously.  "  My 
father  has  not  relented  as  yet ;  but  I  think  he  must, 
before  long.  Gen.  King  has  sent  me  some  money ;  and 
my  father  would  not  suffer  that  to  be  without  repaying 
the  loan :  so  it  is  almost  the  same  as  if  he  sent  it  to  me. 
But  I  have  one  thing  to  live  for ;  and  I  am  determined 
to  accomplish  it  before  I  go  home." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Sam,  from  his  place  on  the 
couch  before  the  fire. 

"  To  have  mj  revenge  on  your  chum,  Huntingdon." 

Sam  and  Kate  were  both  silent. 

"  Yes.  I  owe  it  to  myself  to  have  my  revenge  on 
him  ;  and  I  shall  remain  in  Cambridge  till  I  accomplish 
it." 

Kate  had  heard  about  the  money  lost  at  play,  and 
had  been  so  shocked  that  Sam  was  fearful  that  his  own 
doings  at  the  Den  might  be  brought  up  next. 

"  He  was  very  near  getting  your  whole  class  involved 
in  a  serious  disturbance  with  the  Faculty,  only  last 
week,"  continued  Cartier. 

"  I  had  not  heard  of  that,"  said  Sam,  rousing  himself. 

"  I  am  not  able  to  give  you  all  the  details ;  but  it  was 
discovered  that  some  book  which  you  men  are  using  was 
out  of  print,  and  that  no  copies  could  be  purchased  at 
the  stores.  Those  belonging  to  the  class  mysteriously 
disappeared  from  the  rooms  in  a  single  day,  almost  with- 


SUSPEXSIOX. 


445 


out  exception;  and  the  recitations  could  not  go  on.  The 
professor  was  very  Trroth.  and  substituted  at  once  some 
text-book  more  difficult  than  the  first  one.  The  trick 
was  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  Huntingdon." 

"  How  did  they  get  out  of  it  ?  "  asked  Sam,  eagerly. 

"  I  think  Mr.  Lyman  and  some  others  discovered  that 
there  were  enough  b£)oks  to  be  had  to  enable  the  class 
to  go  on  by  borrowing  from  the  Seniors,  and  making 
use  of  those  in  the  library ;  and  an  arrangement  to  that 
effect  was  made." 

"  What  was  to  be  gained  by  such  a  move  as  that, 
eyen  if  no  more  of  the  books  were  to  be  had?"  queried 
Kate. 

"  I  think  an  examination  on  what  the  class  had  been 
over  would  be  avoided.  It  was  thought  that  Mr.  Himt- 
ingdon  intended  to  re-establish  himself  in  the  popularity 
of  the  class  by  this  undertaking ;  but  Mr.  Lyman  woidd 
not  permit  that." 

"  He  would  not  be  very  likely  to,  if  it  was  in  his 
power  to  prevent  it,"  said  Sam ;  and  then  the  conversa- 
tion came  around  to  pleasanter  matters. 

Perhaps  the  Wentworths  enjoyed  a  sojourn  that  Has- 
kill  made  with  them  as  much  as  any  thing  that  took 
place  in  these  days  ;  for  he  was  never  more  replete  with 
his  peculiarly  entertaining  information  than  at  this  time. 
He  expressed  his  indignation  at  the  action  the  Faculty 
had  taken  in  Sam's  case,  a  score  of  times ;  and  the 
character  he  gave  that  venerable  body  would  not  have 
delighted  them  much,  I  am  sure. 

"  You  heard  about  the  fireworks  in  Goody's  room?" 
he  remarked,  in  a  matter-of-fact  manner,  as  they  were 


446  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

all  sitting  in  the  twilight ;  though  he  knew  well  enough 
that  they  had  not,  and,  indeed,  had  come  down  almost 
expressly  to  tell  the  story. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  returned  Sam.    "  What  was  it  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  medical  student,  with  ill-suppressed 
glee,  "  that's  good  I  the  best  thing  that  has  been  done 
this  generation,  and  you  not  to  know  about  it ! "  and 
his  eyes  sparkled  with  delight. 

"  Well,  you  see,  the  Sophs,  were  reciting  to  Goody 
day  before  yesterday  morning  in  at  University  16.  You 
remember  the  big  curtain  in  the  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  first  college  room  I  ever  entered.  I  shall 
never  forget  it." 

"  Goody  was  explaining  away  about  the  optative  and 
all  that,  when  of  a  sudden  there  was  a  tremendous 
explosion  behind  the  curtain ;  Roman  candles  went  off, 
serpents  flew  hissing  around,  mines  and  batteries  ex- 
ploded. The  curtain  was  afire  in  no  time.  Goody  gave 
two  strides,  and  was  half  way  up  the  aisle  and  behind 
the  students.  He  wasn't  frightened ;  oh,  no ! "  and 
Haskill  laughed,  and  Sam  too. 

"  The  fellows  were  as  surprised  as  Goody ;  but  they 
rushed  and  opened  the  windows,  and  some  got  out  that 
way,  and  some  by  the  door.  There  was  a  cry  of  '  Fire  ! 
Fire ! '  and,  as  the  smoke  poured  out  of  the  room,  the 
fellows  rallied  with  their  water-pails ;  and  there  was  a 
great  crowd,  and  water  was  plenty  for  a  time.  Some- 
body had  to  take  most  of  what  was  brought  in,  on  their 
persons ;  for  the  curtain  was  the  only  thing  in  the  room 
that  could  or  did  burn." 

"  The  professor  must  have  felt  badly,"  said  Kate. 

"  Oh,  didn't  'le  !  he  felt  badly  enough  to  think  that 


SUSPENSION. 


447 


his  students  should  wish  to  blow  him  up  in  that  style : 
so  somebody  drew  up  a  statement  expressing  regard  for 
him,  and  disclaiming  any  knowledge  of  or  part  in  the 
matter ;  and  the  joke  was  that  every  man  in  the  class 
signed  it." 

They  all  laughed  at  this. 

"It  seems  to  me  as  though  that  was  carrying  mat- 
ters pretty  far,"  said  Kate,  seriously.  "  I  don't  think  I 
understand  the  passion  that  seems  to  exist  among  the 
students  for  setting  fire  to  buildings,  or  blowing  th6m 
up ;  encouraging  rebellions,  and  troubling  the  souls 
of  professors.  To  me  it  looks  very  silly  and  foolish, 
though  it  may  all  be  very  fine  sport." 

Haskill  looked  a  little  dashed.  "  But  I  haven't  told 
you  the  cream  of  the  joke  yet,"  he  added. 

"  Do  tell  us,"  said  Kate,  mollified  at  once  by  his 
downcast  look.  "  I  thought  your  story  was  finished, 
or  I  shouldn't  have  interrupted  you  with  my  moraliz- 
ing." 

"  You  remember  Lyman,  Miss  Kate  ?  Yes,  you  must 
of  course ;  and  your  chum,  Sam,  will  remember  him  a 
long  while,  I  fancy,  for  he  blocked  his  little  game  for 
him  nicely.  Your  precious  chum  would  have  got  the 
class  into  a  nice  mess,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Lyman  and 
a  few  others.  Well,  among  the  rest  Lyman  rallied 
with  his  water-pail  to  help  put  the  fire  out ;  and  it  so 
chanced  that  he  had  on  a  new  pair  of  pants,  wliich  were 
ruined.  What  does  the  youth  do,  but  go  up  to  the 
Prex.'s  office  next  day,  and  tell  that  functionary  that  at 
the  fire  yesterday  where  he  had  rushed  to  the  rescue 
with  his  water-pail,  to  save  the  college  property  from 
destruction,  his  new  pants  had  been  ruined ;  and  ask  for 


448 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


eighteen  dollars  to  buy  another  pair  with  !  The  Prex. 
said  he  had  no  authority  to  pay  out  money  for  such  a 
purpose  as  that,  —  you  know  nobody  ever  knew  him  to 
'  have  any  authorit}^ '  to  do  any  thing,  —  but  said,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  cold  blue  eye,  that  he  would  lay  the 
matter  before  the  Faculty.  He  was  as  good  as  his 
word ;  and,  by  Jove  !  they  actually  voted  to  give  Lyman 
eighteen  dollars  to  buy  a  new  pair  of  pants  with ;  and 
he  had  just  the  gayest  old  time  playing  billiards  while 
the  money  lasted." 

They  all  laughed  heartily  at  this  yarn,  which  was 
true  in  point  of  fact,  although  that  is  more  than  could 
be  said  of  many  of  Mr.  Haskill's  recitals. 

"  You  have  here  a  fine  illustration  of  Faculty  justice, 
Mrs.  Wentworth,"  continued  Haskill,  "in  their  sus- 
pending your  son,  and  voting  Lyman  eighteen  dollars 
to  play  billiards  with;  but,  then,  what  can  any  one 
expect  better?  It  is  about  the  wa}^  they  manage  every 
thing  there.  Everybod}^  connected  with  the  college 
seems  to  use  as  little  common-sense  as  possible  in  all 
their  doings.  Every  thing  is  so  different  where  I  am 
now!" 


XXVIII. 

SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 

Besides  running  down  every  other  Saturday,  Villiers 
passed  the  May  recess  with  his  friends  at  Little  Harbor ; 
and  the  dajs  were  wondronsly  pleasant  ones  to  him. 

"  It  is,  as  I  feared,  too  late  for  any  mayflowers,"  said 
Kate,  as  they  were  strolling  home  after  a  long  tramp 
through  the  fields  in  quest  of  them.  "  They  are  usually 
gone  by  the  middle  of  the  month ;  but  the  season  has 
been  so  late,  I  thought  we  might  possibly  find  a  few." 

Yilliers  was  well  content ;  it  was  enough  that  he  had 
Kate  for  his  companion. 

"I  believe  I  would  walk  almost  any  distance  to 
gather  a  bunch  of  mayflowers  in  the  early  spring.  I 
suppose  you  think  me  unduly  enthusiastic." 

"  They  are  certainly  exquisite,"  said  Yilliers. 

"  Ah  !  you  cannot  appreciate  their  beauties  by  the 
faded  bunches  you  buy  on  the  street  in  the  city.  I 
used  to  go  with  mother  and  Sam,  and  look  for  them, 
when  I  was  a  very  little  giii ;  and  they  used  to  pretend 
that  they  could  not  find  any  till  I  had  found  the  first 
"  one." 

If  our  friend  had  been  prone  to  passing  compliments, 
he  would  have  told  her,  in  some  polite  way,  as  he 
looked  down  fondly  at  her  fresh  beauty,  her  pink 

449 


450  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

cheeks,  violet-blue  eyes,  and  her  wavy  hair  just  (3harm- 
ingly  disarranged  by  the  fresh  breeze,  that  she  was 
a  very  mayflower  of  a  girl  herself :  as  it  was,  he  only 
thought  it,  which  was  perhaps  better.  They  passed  on 
to  the  old  landing,  where  Sam  was  at  work  overhaul- 
ing the  sail-boat. 

"  You  cannot  be  quite  safe.  Miss  Kate,  in  venturing 
out  to  sea  in  that  old  sail-boat,"  said  Villiers,  although 
he  knew  that  Kate  was  almost  as  much  of  a  sailor  as 
her  brother. 

"  Oh,  she  will  be  seaworthy  for  a  long  time  yet,'* 
said  Sam,  looking  up  from  his  work.  "  She  was  ex- 
tremely well  built,  and  has  been  well  cared  for." 

"  I  do  wish  1  had  a  boat  not  quite  so  large,  and  with 
only  one  sail,"  said  Kate,  eagerly,  "  and  one  that  I 
could  call  my  own." 

"  Next  winter,  when  I  get  back  to  Cambridge,  I  will 
try  and  get  you  up  one  after  your  own  heart.  We 
sha'n't  do  much  boating  this  summer  if  we  go  to  the 
mountains." 

"  No,"  returned  Kate.  "  It  would  be  much  nicer  to 
have  one  next  year,  built  in  Boston ; "  and  her  eyes 
sparkled  at  the  anticipation. 

"  We  can  go  a-fishing  any  time  now,"  said  Sam,  as 
he  climbed  on  to  the  landing,  and  surveyed  his  work. 
"  She  is  already  for  service." 

"  You  must  not  miss  that  if  you  care  for  the  sport," 
exclaimed  Kate.  When  the  apple-trees  blossom  is  the 
season  of  all  the  year.  If  you  are  enthusiastic  enough, 
you  can  go  for  a  night's  work.  The  fishermen  set  their 
nets  in  the  night,  and  haul  boatloads  of  fish.  And, 
though  they  are  very  superstitious  about  having  a 


1 


SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


451 


stranger  in  their  boats,  we  can  arrange  it  for  you,  if 
you  care  to  go." 

Thus  the  two  classmates  had  a  night's  sport  with  the 
seine  ;  and  it  became  an  every-day  occurrence  for  them 
to  haul  a  boatload  of  splendid  brown  cod  from  the 
grounds  in  the  bay.  In  this  way,  the  time  passed  only 
too  quickly. 

Sunday  evening,  as  they  were  all  gathered  around  the 
ruddy  fire,  the  conversation  drifted  around  to  religious 
and  metaphysical  matters,  and  lasted  a  long  time.  The 
Wentworths  obtained  a  better  insight  of  the  character 
and  principles  of  George  Yilliers  than  was  ever  vouch- 
safed by  him  to  any  other  friends,  albeit  it  was  accident- 
ally given  to  them. 

The  events  of  the  year  had  led  Sam  to  ponder 
over  matters  which  had  hitherto  been  the  least  to 
occupy  his  attention ;  and  the  result  of  his  reflections 
was  a  most  thoroughly  misanthropic  condition.  Thus 
far,  none  of  his  friends  suspected  what  gloomy  thoughts 
were  laid  away  in  the  young  man's  mind.  He-  had 
kept  them  all  to  himself,  and  pondered  them  in  his 
heart ;  but  this  evening  he  gave  vent  to  them  with  a 
bitterness  which  pained  and  astonished  them  all. 

"  For  one,"  said  he  suddenly,  after  a  statement  by 
Villiers,  "  I  have  concluded  that  every  thing  goes 
wrong,  not  only  with  myself,  but  with  any  one  and 
every  one  ;  or  at  least,  that  every  thing  or  any  thing 
is  as  likely  to  go  wrong  as  right,  irrespective  of  any 
reason  or  justice  for  the  one  result  or  the  other.  Every 
thing  is  Jiertzlich  sehlecht^  —  as  bad  as  heart  could 
desire,  —  as  Mephistopheles  says  in  the  play." 

This  utterance  was  a  very  firebrand.     "How  can 


452  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

you  say  so,  Sam  ?  What  is  there  that  bears  you  out  ?  " 
said  his  mother,  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  a  thousand  things  I  "  returned  the  young  man, 
warmly.  "  Take  Cole's  case.  He  had  worked  all  his 
life  for  one  single  end,  had  sacrificed  family,  friends, 
and  fortune.  His  ambition  was  pure,  noble,  almost  holy. 
Just  as  he  was  beginning  to  realize  the  first  fruits  of 
his  efforts,  he  died;  and  all  this  desperate  effort  and 
privation  Avas  in  yain.  What  justice  was  there  in  his 
case,  that  he  should  die  ?  " 

No  one  can  say  that  he  has  not  gained  more  than 
he  has  lost,"  said  Villiers,  after  a  silence. 

"  No  :  I  presumed  you  would  say  that  of  Cole's  case  ; 
but  look  at  that  little  girl,  who  has  been  wearing  out 
her  youth,  and  her  life  almost,  in  drudgery.  What  had 
that  innocent  child  done,  that  she  should  fare  thus  ? 
She  might  have  lived  on  that  way  always,  but  for  the 
veriest  accident." 

"  She  might  have ;  but,  in  point  of  fact,  she  is  a 
very  poor  illustration  of  your  views,"  returned  Villiers. 
"  Her  affairs  have  been  untangled ;  and  she  is  as  happily 
and  favorably  situated  as  need  be.  She  has  an  ample 
income,  a  competent  guardian,  is  at  a  good  school  im- 
proving her  opportunities  in  a  manner  that  shows  that 
adversity  was  not  without  good  results  in  her  case.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  three-years'  discipline  she 
endured,  though  it  was  hard  to  bear,  will  make  her 
more  womanly  and  attractive  and  more  useful  in  many 
ways." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Sam,  coloring  a  little,  "  take  my 
own  case  for  the  past  year  and  a  half.  What  have  I 
done  to  deserve  the  disappointment  and  mortification  I 


SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


453 


have  had  to  bear?  I  worked  hard  enough  to  fare  better 
in  more  ways  than  one.  I  —  I  set  my  heart  on  winning 
Rose  Thorne,  as  you  all  know.  I  did  all  I  could,  and 
she  sent  me  away.  It  may  seem  a  little  matter  to  you ; 
but,  if  any  thing  of  the  sort  ever  comes  home  to  you, 
you  will  discover  that  it  is  not.  Then  see  what  a  nice 
mess  I  made  of  it  this  fall.  I  believe  I  have  honestly 
tried  to  do  only  what  was  honorable  and  right  at  all 
times  :  the  result  is,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  that  I  am  sent 
home  in  disgrace,  and  for  no  other  reason  than  that  I 
would  not  suffer  a  parcel  of  tipsy  students  to  insult  a 
young  girl,  and  afterwards  tell  such  a  stor}^  about  the 
matter  as  pleased  their  fancy.  Why,  take  the  situation 
of  the  people  you  find  in  the  places  I  went  to  with 
Huntingdon.  You  don't  know  any  thing  about  these 
things,  and  never  will ;  but  they  are  there  :  the  city  is 
full  of  all  sorts  of  wickedness ;  and  the  people  who 
make  up  this  lot  are  at  least  human  beings,  men  and 
women,  and  not  much  different  from  other  people,  —  I 
dare  say  really  not  much  worse.  All  these  things,  that 
make  or  *  break  us,  determine  our  condition  in  this 
world  and  the  next,  as  we  are  taught  to  believe,  are 
beyond  our  control,  and  as  likely  to  be  for  evil  as  for 
good,  so  far  as  I  can  see ;  and  there  is  really  no  justice 
in  any  of  it.    That  is  my  idea." 

A  silence  succeeded  this  rather  unexpected  state- 
ment. "  I  think,"  said  Yilliers,  "  that  you  are  on  the 
right  way  to  a  very  comfortable  state  of  mind  in  regard 
to  these  things,  which  at  some  time  or  other  perplex 
every  thoughtful  person ;  and  I  think  that  at  no  very 
distant  time  you  will  emerge  from  this  darkness,  and  see 
the  clearer  for  having  passed  through  it.    A  great  point 


454 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


is  gained  when  any  one  fully  realizes  that  the  events 
which  shape  his  life  are  controlled  by  a  power  greater 
than  himself ;  for,  when  he  once  believes  this,  he  must, 
if  there  is  any  reason  in  him,  admit  upon  careful  reflec- 
tion that  this  power  which  brings  these  things  to  pass, 
brings  them  to  pass  for  his  good,  thereby  saving  him 
many  a  time  when,  if  he  could  have  his  own  way,  he 
would  rush  straight  to  destruction  ;  and  I  think  it  is  the 
fault  of  our  education  that  more  men  and  women  do 
not  realize  this  to  be  so. 

"  We  are  taught,  for  instance,  all  through  our  lives, 
that  every  man  is  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune.  We 
hear  this  from  the  time  we  are  boys  till  we  become  old ; 
and  the  doctrine  pervades  every  field  we  enter  upon. 
We  have  the  words  given  us  to  do  into  Latin  when  we 
are  at  school,  with  an  emphatic  comment  from  the 
master  to  remember  them.  In  business  or  professional 
or  political  life,  the  same  principle  is  insisted  upon  on 
every  hand.  They  even  preach  it  at  you  at  church, 
where,  to  make  their  theories  consistent,  they  tell  you 
that  we  are  absolutely  free  agents.  Of  course  success 
is  the  object  which,  if  this  principle  is  true,  we  are 
bound  to  achieve  if  there  is  any  virtue  or  manhood  in 
us.  Many  a  man  is  unsuccessful :  he  fails  through  no 
fault  of  his  own  perhaps ;  but  his  training  and  education 
have  been  such  that  he  thinks  it  must  be  his  fault,  and 
the  world  treats  him  as  though  it  were  his  fault,  and  he 
becomes  discouraged,  and  gives  up  the  fight ;  says  every 
thing  is  out  of  joint,  and  that  life  is  not  worth  the 
having,  just  because  he  has  not  been  permitted  to  work 
out  his  plans  after  his  own  heart :  whereas,  if  he  had 
been  differently  educated  in  these  matters,  he  would 


ST7NDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


455 


tliirLk  that  perhaps  it  vras  his  own  plans  that  -^ere  out 
of  joint,  and  take  courage,  and  try  again."' 

'•But  YOU  believe  ve  are  all  free  agents?  exclaimed 
Kate :  vre  could  not  be  responsible  beings  if  we  were 
not."  Kate  was  a  most  devout  church-woman,  and 
came  promptly  to  the  rescue  of  principles  which  she 
fancied  had  been  assailed. 

"I  do  not  believe  in  any  such  absolute  and  entire 
responsibility  as  is  commonly  accepted,  any  more  than 
I  believe  in  absolute  and  complete  freedom,  which  is 
something  existing  in  words  only:  and  I  will  try  to 
give  you  my  reasons  for  this.  In  the  first  place,  I 
believe  with  all  my  soul  that  our  lives  are  controlled 
from  the  bemnincf  to  the  end :  and  I  will  trv  to  show 
you  why  I  think  so.  I  dare  say  I  shall  not  make  my 
meaning  plain  :  and,  even  if  I  do,  one  needs  to  reason  it 
out  for  one's  self,  to  realize  it  all  fuUy :  but  I  may  pos- 
sibly lend  a  helping  hand  to  one  who  is  struggling  in 
the  dark,  like  my  friend  here. 

You  know  you  often  hear  it  said,  that  a  certain 
event  happened  •  providentially.*  Thereupon  the  scep- 
tic laughs  at  you,  and  says,  '  Ho  I  a  queer  God  this  is  of 
yours :  he  permits  things  to  take  their  own  course  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  the  hundred,  and  then  in  the 
hundredth  stretches  out  his  hand,  and  has  this  one  go 
right.  Xow,  let  us  be  fair  and  honest  in  our  talk,  and 
call  things  by  their  right  names,  and  call  it  all  chance  ; 
for  certainly  life  is  all  cliance  if  any  of  it  is,  and  you 
admit  that  it  is  chance  in  the  ninety  and  nine  cases.' 
And  the  sceptic  is  right.  If  there  is  any  such  element 
in  human  life  as  chance,  it  must  be  all  chance  :  if  there 
is  any  such  thing  as  design,  it  must  be  all  design. 


456 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HABVARD. 


"  Now,  my  idea  is,  that  every  thing  comes  to  pass  by 
design ;  that  God's  providence  is  in  every  thing,  every 
action  and  every  thought ;  and  that,  in  common  with 
the  rest  of  creation,  we  are  under  tliis  omnipresent  care. 
You  wonder  perhaps  at  my  stating  this  so  gravely,  and 
say,  'Why,  yes:  we  all  believe  that;'  but  no  one  I 
have  ever  known  believes  it  to  the  full  extent  to  which 
I  mean  to  have  it  extend,  —  that  existence  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  life  is  in  accordance  with  one 
vast  plan  of  God's  which  comprises  every  thing.  We 
get  only  glimpses  of  this  plan  from  time  to  time ;  but 
every  one  sees  more  or  less  of  it,  and  enough  to  enable 
him  to  realize,  if  he  will,  that  it  exists  in  its  entirety. 

"  If  we  are  unexpectedly,  and  perchance  wonder- 
fully, rescued  from  danger,  we  call  it  a  '  providential ' 
escape,  and  thank  God  for  it.  If  we  meet  with  some 
great  disappointment,  which  we  realize  comes  to  us 
from  causes  beyond  our  control,  like  Sam's  trouble,  we 
say  it  is  '  hard  luck,'  or  '  cruel  fate,'  or  '  adversity.'  If 
something  quite  unforeseen  and  unexpected  comes  to 
us,  we  call  it  chance.  In  reality  it  is  all  one :  there 
can  be  no  such  thing  as  fate  or  luck  or  chance.  It  is 
all  God's  providence  and  care ;  and  every  thing  in  our 
lives  comes  to  pass  in  accordance  with  his  infinitely 
good  and  wise  design.  I  have  often  thought  that  'this 
fact  of  God's  omnipresent  care  over  our  lives,  as  shown 
in  his  ordering  of  them,  is  the  one  absolutely  unanswer- 
able argument  in  proof  of  God's  existence. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  fully,  Miss  Kate,  how  the  com- 
monly accepted  belief  in  free  agency  and  consequent 
responsibility  exists  consistently  with  this  plan.  Every- 
day experience  makes  us  conscious  that  we  exercise 


SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


457 


choice  in  our  sphere  of  action,  and  that  certain  results 
follow  our  choice ;  but  I  still  think  that  our  choice 
must  be  in  accordance  with  God's  design.  The  fact 
that  we  are  for  the  most  part  unconscious  of  God's 
providence  in  our  daily  affairs ;  that  in  the  ninety  and 
nine  events  we  cannot  realize  its  existence,  except  we 
realize  it  as  ever  present  for  the  reasons  that  I  am 
trying  to  give  you,  —  is  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
responsibility  which  we  all  feel  and  act  upon.  If  we 
are  not  conscious  that  our  path  is  shaped  for  us,  we 
cannot  but  feel  that  we  are  shaping  it  ourselves.  The 
wisest  government  in  human  matters  is  that  which  con- 
trols without  conscious  constraint  on  the  part  of  the 
governed.  So  it  is  that  the  divine  hand  which  leads  us 
is  manifest  to  us  only  enough  to  make  us  aware,  if  we 
take  the  pains  to  reflect  upon  it  closely,  that  it  is  ever 
guiding  and  protecting  us.  When  we  begin  to  reflect 
on  these  matters,  it  is  with  a  firm  conviction  in  our 
freedom  and  responsibility;  after  a  time  we  come  to  a 
point  where  we  cannot  tell  whether  Hfe  is  controlled  or 
not;  and  farther  on  we  come  to  ground  where  CA'ery 
one  admits  that  it  is  controlled.  Every  one  admits  this 
to  a  greater  or  less  degree.  Xow,  I  believe  that  we  are 
controlled  always,  except  that  for  God's  own  wise  pur- 
poses we  are  unconscious  of  this  for  the  most  part,  and 
only  see  God's  hand  directing  our  lives  from  time  to 
time :  that  is,  that  is  the  general  condition  of  mankind. 
I  dare  say  I  have  wound  myself  up  by  this  time,  so  as 
to  be  altogether  unintelligible." 

"  No,"  returned  Kate,  slowly.  "  I  understand  you, 
though  I  never  thought  of  this  before." 

"  Then  I  suppose,"  said  Sam,  a  little  dryly,  "  that, 


458 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


according  to  this  doctrine,  any  thing  that  happens  to  a 
man  is  for  the  best.  If  he  commits  a  crime,  or  takes  to 
drink  and  bad  company,  or  if  a  girl  goes  onto  the  street 
and  to  perdition,  it  is  all  right !  I  should  think  there 
were  a  good  many  stubborn  facts  in  the  way  of  your 
little  theory." 

"  So  there  are ;  but  there  are  still  more  stubborn 
facts  to  account  for  if  you  accept  the  sceptic's  belief ; 
and  one  or  the  other  I  believe  we  must  choose.  This 
problem  of  evil  which  you  bring  up  has  staggered 
many  a  one,  and  made  him  lose  his  faith;  but  if  my 
theory  is  correct,  there  can  be  no  such  thing." 

"  But  there  is  such  a  thing :  a  man  must  be  crazy  to 
say  there  is  not." 

"  Yes,  as  we  estimate  and  judge,  there  is  what  we  call 
evil ;  but  in  God's  sight  every  thing  must  work  for 
good.  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  evil  in  God's 
administration.  I  cannot  understand  or  explain  how  it 
is  that  evil  always  works  out  good ;  but  I  can  show 
you  very  strong  reasons,  as  I  believe,  for  my  faith." 

"  Pray  let  us  hear  them." 

"  Well,  Sam,  suppose  we  take  your  own  life ;  for  that 
is  something  you  are  most  familiar  with,  and  are  best 
able  to  judge  of.  Perhaps  you  will  admit  that  to  your 
best  knowledge  every  thing  that  has  happened  to  you 
thus  far  —  and  nearly  every  thing  has  come  about  with- 
out your  agency  —  has  been  for  your  good,  excepting 
these  two  troubles  which  you  have  spoken  of.  Is  this 
true?" 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  said  Sam,  promptly. 
"  And  I  suppose  you  can  think  of  things  that  at  the 
time  seemed  unmitigated  evils,  and  which  you  were 


SUNDAY  EVENIXC^  TALK. 


459 


perhaps  responsible  for,  which  you  have  since  recog- 
nized as  good  in  their  results.'* 

"  I  see,"  said  Sam,  laughing,  "  you  are  going  to  corner 
me.  Yes,  I  admit  that  too.  There  was  mj  experience 
(to  speak  of  it  tenderly)  at  the  examination  for  admis- 
sion. I  thought  that  as  bad  as  any  thing  could  be  ;  and 
yet  I  learned  a  yerj  Ayholesome  lesson." 

"  I  will  yenture  to  predict,  Sam,  that  before  you  are 
two  years  older  you  will  rejoice  that  these  two  troubles 
or  disappointments  came  to  you  as  they  did." 

Sam  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  sure  Mr.  Yilliers  is  right  about  tliis,"  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth. 

"  But  eyen  as  you  feel  now,"  continued  Yilliers, 
"  haye  you  any  right  to  say  that  these  two  trials  are  not 
good  for  you?  Are  you  not  bound,  considering  that 
every  thing  else  has  happened  for  your  best  welfare,  to 
take  these  two  trials  which  came  without  any  fault  of 
yours,  —  no  more  than  a  hundred  others  which  you  con- 
sider blessings  haye  come  without  any  desert  on  your 
part,  —  on  credit,  as  it  were,  and  belieye  that  these  are 
equally  for  your  good;  that  some  time  you  will  see  that 
this  is  so,  eyen  if  you  cannot  now  ?  Of  course  that  will 
not  cure  the  ache  and  pain ;  but  it  will  help  you  to  bear 
it  with  courage,  like  a  man." 

Sam  was  silent. 

"  Your  theory  is  as  practical  as  it  is  beautiful,  Mr. 
Yilliers,"  said  Kate. 

"  And  it  seems  so  yery  simple  to  me,"  continued 
Yilliers.  "  The  old  lady  put  it  into  the  fewest  words, 
who  used  to  say  that  such  and  such  a  thing  that  had 
happened  was  right,  otherwise  it  would  not  haye  hap- 


460  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


pened  ;  aiid  the  way  to  it  is  so  plain  that  no  one  need 
miss  it.  Let  any  one  take  ten  years  of  his  life,  and  go 
over  them  carefully,  and  see  if  he  is  not  satisfied  that 
every  thing  that  has  happened  to  him  has  Leen  for  his 
good ;  if  not  all,  at  least  enough  to  justify  him  in  having 
faith  for  that  which  he  cannot  as  yet  reconcile.  Let 
any  one  do  this  fairly  and  dispassionately,  and  there 
are  few  who  must  not  fain  acknowledge  that  those 
events  which  were  at  the  time  the  most  grievously  dis- 
appointing, the  hardest  to  bear,  the  most  baffling,  the 
most  unjust,  as  it  seemed,  have  really  proved  to  be 
events  for  which,  on  one  ground  or  another,  there  is  the 
chiefest  reason  to  give  thanks,  and  events  which  show 
God's  care  to  be  the  tenderest  at  the  time  when  it  has 
seemed  as  though  Mephistopheles  was  right,  and  every 
thing  was  '  as  bad  as  heart  could  wish.'  The  difficulty 
in  the  problem  arises  when  you  pass  from  your  own  life 
and  experience  to  that  of  others  ;  for  there  you  go  astray 
very  soon,  if  you  have  nothing  to  trust  to  but  the 
appearances  which  their  lives  present.  You  are  wholly 
unable  to  reconcile  the  misfortune  and  trials  that  others 
have  to  endure,  with  any  thing  like  justice  or  divine 
goodness.  You  see  only  a  tangled  skein,  in  which  the 
dark  colors  seem  to  predominate  in  an  appalling  degree. 
Vice  and  crime  seem  to  riot  unchecked ;  and  the  hydra- 
lieaded  problem  of  evil  confronts  and  confounds.  But 
return  for  a  moment  to  your  faith.  You  see  that  the 
evil  in  your  own  life  has  been  for  your  good ;  your 
trials,  misfortunes,  sins,  even.  Are  you  not  right  in 
believing  that  the  lives  of  others  are  ordered  for  them, 
as  your  life  has  beeli  and  is  from  day  to  day  ordered  for 
you,  and  that  it  is  only  your  own  ignorance  that  doubts 


SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


461 


God's  pro^-iclence,  and  tliat,  if  yon  conld  see  only  as 
well  into  the  lives  of  others  as  yon  do  in  yonr  own  case, 
you  would  know  tliat  all  was  well?  '* 

"  You  v-ould  change  very  much  our  ideas  of  what 
good  is,  ^Ir.  Villiers,'"  said  I\lrs.  ^Ventwortli. 

Yes."  returned  Yilliers.  I  suppose  so.  It  is  pre- 
sumptuous in  me  to  say  it :  but  I  think  tlie  common 
idea  of  good  is  all  wrong.  Good  is  any  tiling  one  hap- 
pens to  want  :  wliile  any  thing  unpleasant  or  disagree- 
able is  not  good.  Success  in  one's  undertakings  is 
good,  pre-eminently  so  :  failure  is  not.  The  end  of  life 
is  to  get  rich,  and  have  a  good  time  ;  and  any  thing 
that  promotes  this  is  good.  But  this  is  all  wrong,  in 
my  humble  judgment  :  and  the  home  training,  or  school 
teachino^s.  or  social  customs,  that  so  instruct,  are  wrono- 
also.  The  object  of  life  is  education  and  discipline. 
"\Ye  are  all  of  us  at  a  great  school :  and  we  are  here 
to  be  educated  and  disciplined.  The  school  is  God's 
school,  and  he  is  the  master  :  and  he  gives  us  each  that 
kind  of  Avork  and  experience  that  will  best  develop  us. 
He  sees  the  beginning  and  the  end:  knows  our  hearts, 
lives,  and  destiny.  We  have  our  own  fancies  and  no- 
tions, as  children  always  do  :  and  for  our  own  good 
they  are  often  crossed.  But  we  always  have  just  what 
we  need  ;  not  Avhat  we  v^ant  to  crown  success  or  hap- 
piness, but  what  we  need  to  carry  out  this  great  edu- 
cation. 

Occasionally  you  hear  this  principle  set  forth  from  a 
pulpit,  or  liaA'e  it  advanced  in  a  book  :  but  in  every 
instance  that  I  have  ever  known  o-ood  is  used  in  its 
commonly  accepted  sense,  and  thus  the  object  of  the 
sermon  or  the  essay  is  defeated.    Xobody  is  deceived 


462 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


by  -nuch.  talk.  Everybody  knows  that  things  do  not 
come  to  pass  in  accordance  with  our  wishd^,  desires,  or 
our  most  earnest  efforts,  and  that  pLans  do  not  result 
happily  or  successfully  or  justly,  so  far  as  we  can 
measure  justice  ;  that  men  die  heartsick  and  broken  in 
spirit ;  that  their  lives  go  out  in  darkness,  though  they 
struggle  hard  to  keep  them  bright ;  that  God  does  not 
always  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,  but  often- 
times suffers  it  to  perish ;  that  thousands  follow  a  life 
of  sin  and  crime  :  so  that  for  a  man  to  preach  that 
every  thing  happens  for  the  good  of  everybody,  and 
limit  the  meaning  of  the  word  'good'  to  its  common  use, 
is  worse  than  for  him  to  hold  his  tongue  altogether. 
For  every  one  sees  that,  despite  the  curious  stories  and 
incidents  he  has  collected  to  fortify  and  establish  his 
position,  there  is  a  fallacy  somewhere  in  the  argu- 
ment, and  that  what  he  says  is  not  true  in  point  of 
fact  and  common  experience  ;  and  the  congregation  for- 
get all  about  it  as  soon  as  they  are  half  a  mile  from  the 
church  door. 

"But  if  my  faith  is  right ;  if  we  are  each  one  of 
us  led  by  God's  hand  from  day  to  day,  all  through 
our  lives ;  if  there  is  in  store  for  us  such  success, 
happiness,  such  failure,  disappointment,  discipline,  even 
though  it  be  dark  and  fearful,  as  each  one  of  us  needs 
for  his  best  welfare  ;  if  this  is  true,  and  we  receive  from 
the  paternal  care  that  watches  over  us  care  that  is  per- 
fect, infinite  in  extent,  and  incapable  of  a  mistake,  just 
what  we  need ;  and  if  we  could  be  taught  in  our  youth 
to  believe  this,  and  to  realize  that  when  we  are  not 
permitted  to  have  our  own  way,  and  work  out  our  own 
plans ;  when  we  are  crossed,  punished  for  our  faults  and 


SUNDAY  EVENING  TALK. 


463 


sins,  we  are  receiving  from  God's  own  liand  jnst  sucli 
mercies  as  we  most  need, — I  think  we  should  grow  up 
to  be  better  and  braver  men  and  women.  I  think  that 
allegiance  to  duty,  honest  manly  and  womanly  effort, 
would  come  to  be  the  end  sought  for,  rather  than 
success  at  any  price  in  our  undertakings.  I  think  there 
would  be  a  faith  in  each  one,  that  would  cheer  and 
sustain  through  the  sorest  trials  and  the  most  heart- 
breaking disappointments,  —  a  faith  that  would  enable 
us  to  see  the  light  shining  beyond,  even  though  the 
clouds  shut  do^vn  dark  on  every  side." 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  when  Villiers  had  concluded  (and 
he  laughed  a  little  nervously),  "  I  won't  say  that  it  is 
easier  to  preach  than  to  practise ;  but  I  think  there  are 
some  people  who  seem  not  to  need  any  discipline. 
They  are  blessed  in  having  their  heart's  desire  come  to 
them  ;  I  suppose  because  it  is  just  what  they  need,  and 
what  will  do  them  the  most  good.  But  you  have 
talked  well,  old  fellow:  you  must  have  an  '  8  '  for  this." 

Although  the  young  man  spoke  lightly,  the  words  of 
his  friend  mado  df  ep  their  impression  on  his  heart. 


1 


XXIX. 

SENIOR  YEAR. 

At  last  Senior  year  and  "  Holworthy  "  have  come. 

A  half-dozen  of  our  Seniors  were  loitering  one  day 
on  the  steps  of  the  hall  at  noontide,  as  if  unwilling 
to  break  the  pleasant  gathering,  chatting  merrily  over 
the  news  of  the  day. 

"  Oh,  Charley  is  going  to  give  Villiers  a  rub  for  the 
lead  this  year,"  quoth  Lewis,  in  answer  to  a  remark  by 
that  gentleman. 

"  Yes,  he  is  going  in  for  a  summa  cum  at  the  very 
least,"  said  Lyman,  coolly;  and  Longstreet  was  the 
centre  of  observation. 

"  I  am  going  to  have  a  part  at  Commencement,  and 
let  folks  know  that  my  brains  are  not  all  in  my  heels ; 
and  you  fellows  may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please," 
returned  the  diminutive  Senior,  stoutly ;  and  there  was 
a  fresh  shout  of  laughter  from  the  company. 

"  And  so  the  young  man  has  turned  dig,  and  given 
up  his  rebellion,  has  he  ?  "  said  Sam,  good-naturedly, 
and  there  was  a  fresh  outburst,  though  Longstreet 
seemed  in  no  way  abashed. 

"  Dig ! "  ejaculated  Lewis.  "  That  word  does  no  sort 
of  justice  to  the  facts  of  the  case.  You  ought  to  hear 
him  squirt!    There  isn't  a  man  in  the  division  that 

464 


SEKTOR  YEAR. 


465 


begins  to  hold,  a  candle  to  liim.  He  will  keep  on  as 
long  as  the  professor  will  permit.*' 

The  group  seated  themselves  on  the  shady  steps,  to 
while  away  an  hour  in  pleasant  gossip  about  class 
matters. 

It  was  even  so :  the  eccentric  little  man  had  taken  to 
study,  and  was  working  with  all  his  might  for  a  "part," 
and  was  as  dignified  and  orderly  at  recitation  as  Villiers 
himself.  As  his  natural  capacity  was  good,  he  was 
making  an  excellent  show  indeed.  Xor  was  he  the 
only  one  thus  metamorphosed  by  the  ambition  to  have 
a  part  at  Commencement.  As  usual,  there  were  a  score 
of  men  who  had  hitherto  barely  kept  their  places  in 
the  class,  who,  at  the  beginning  of  this  last  year,  were 
seized  with  a  determination  to  distinguish  themselves 
on  tlie  rank-list ;  and  for  a  time  they  made  a  brilliant 
display.  Your  plodding  student  who  had  always  done 
his  work  well,  without  making  any  especial  exertion, 
was  quite  thrown  into  the  shade.  But  this  sudden  im- 
pulse was  wont  for  the  most  part  to  die  out  as  the  term 
advanced ;  and,  as  the  professors  understood  it  from  past 
experience,  it  did  not  usually  profit  the  men  much. 

Here  we  are  Seniors,  and  actually  in  Holworthy !  It 
is  hard  to  realize  it  at  once ;  it  seems  as  though  there 
must  be  some  other  class  above  us  to  look  up  to.  Tlie 
dignity  comes  in  time,  however,  and  sits  easily  and 
gracefully  on  our  shoulders.  We  are  the  college. 
We  have  our  suite  of  apartments,  —  a  sleeping-room 
apiece,  and  the  comfortable  and  almost  elegant  study- 
room,  with  its  deep,  pleasant  window-seats,  whence  we 
look  out  upon  the  grounds  and  the  checkered  shade 
under  the  elms,  which  from  this  new  point  of  observa- 


466  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


tion  seem  really  to  have  been  planted  in  rows,  a  fact 
we  never  discovered  before ;  and  in  the  rooms  about  us, 
overhead  and  underneath,  are  our  best  friends,  our 
classmates. 

Being  Seniors,  with  a  great  deal  of  dignity  to  spare, 
we  can  unbend  a  little  if  occasion  requires,  and  pitch 
coppers,  or  play  leap-frog,  on  the  smooth,  firm  drive  in 
front  of  the  hall ;  or  lounge  an  hour  after  dinner  on 
the  steps,  in  our  silk  hats  and  slippers,  in  most  elegant 
ease. 

Yes,  there  is  no  glory  equal  to  the  glory  of  the  full- 
fledged  Senior  at  Harvard,  as  he  calmly  looks  clown  on 
the  classes  below  him  from  the  inapproachable  height 
to  which  he  has  been  so  long  a-climbing.  The  lower 
classes,  how  infinitely  removed  they  seem !  The  very 
President  and  Professors, — what  are  they  more  than 
his  servants,  whose  duty  it  is  to  keep  this  great 
institution  in  the  most  perfect  order  possible,  that  he 
—  yes,  he,  who  only  a  little  time  ago  was  a  poor  dog  of 
a  Freshman  —  may  enjoy  the  benefits  thereby  afforded? 
It  makes  the  work  of  the  year,  hard  though  it  be,  and 
tasking  severely  the  best  mind,  and  the  soundest  consti- 
tution by  no  means  lightly,  quite  a  different  matter 
from  the  intolerable  grind  it  would  otherwise  be  to 
many. 

Happy  Senior  !  enjoy  these  your  halcyon  days  while 
you  may ;  for  great  will  be  the  fall  from  your  pinnacle 
of  glory,  when  after  Commencement  you  go  forth  into 
the  great  world  to  earn  your  first  dollar,  and  find  that 
even  the  boy  who  dusts  the  office,  and  kindles  the  fire, 
and  runs  of  errands,  is  for  the  time  at  least  more  valued 
and  more  valu'ible  than  you ;  since  he  does  some  deed 


SENIOR  YEAR. 


467 


even  tliough  it  be  a  small  one,  well,  while  you  are 
utterly  inexperienced  and  unpractised !  So  smoke  on, 
and  dream  on,  and  enjoy  your  glory  wliile  it  lasts  ;  for, 
when  you  have  departed  from  this  charmed  circle,  it 
will  have  vanished  forever  I  With  hard  work  and  happy 
days,  the  senior  year  slips  rapidly  away. 

Sam  enjoyed,  one  evening  late  in  the  term,  a  call 
from  his  friend  Wilkinson,  now  a  law-student  of  six 
months  or  more  ;  and  the  talk  was  about  the  work  and 
amusements  of  the  year. 

"  Yes,  forensics  always  were  a  bore,"  said  Wilkinson, 
in  reply  to  a  remark  of  Sam's.  "  I  don't  suppose  that 
Fanny  ever  gave  out  a  real  live  subject,  or  one  which 
could  not  be  argued  on  one  side  equally  well  as  on  the 
other.    Do  they  rough  him  as  much  as  ever  ?  " 

"  More,  I  should  think.  I  get  out  of  patience  with 
the  fellows,  though  it's  impossible  not  to  laugh  some- 
times. Two  or  three  of  our  division  men  have  a  way  of 
shaking  the  floor  in  a  manner  that  annoys  him  very 
much,  as  well  it  may ;  for  the  windows  rattle,  and  the 
walls  tremble,  as  though  there  was  an  earthquake ;  and 
he  fijids  it  impossible  to  discover  the  offender." 

"  Yes,  our  men  used  to  do  that." 

"  Then  they  sometimes  go  in  and  sit  down  with  their 
overcoats  on.  As  soon  as  the  recitation  begins,  the  end 
man  in  the  division  gets  up  and  leisurely  takes  off  his 
overcoat,  folds  it  carefully,  and  sits  down.  Then  the 
next  man  rises,  and  does  the  same  ;  then  the  next,  and 
so  on  :  all  with  the  utmost  gravity  and  decorum.  The 
funny  part  of  it  is  to  see  him  look  up  and  give  a  half 
snort,  and  try  to  discover  what  it  is  that  is  wrong ;  for 


468 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


he  is  surely  conscious  that  something  is  not  as  it  should 
be,  though  as  he  can  discover  nothing  more  reprehen- 
sible than  a  man  quietly  taking  off  his  overcoat  he  will 
almost  immediately  forget  time  and  space  in  his  politi- 
cal economy.  He  is  a  thousand  times  more  interested 
than  any  of  us,  though  he  has  been  over  the  ground 
scores  of  times." 

The  law-student  laughed  softly  at  this.  "  He  is  so 
sincere  and  earnest  that  it  always  seemed  to  me  to  be  a 
shame  to  treat  him  so." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  a  shame,  of  course ;  but  then,  you 
know,  'boys  will  be  boys.'  In  the  third  division,  Lewis, 
Lyman,  Longstreet,  and  two  or  three  others,  have  the 
front  seat  under  his  very  eye.  They  sit  cross-legged  ; 
and  every  time  he  calls  a  man  up  they  '  legover,'  as 
Lewis  calls  it,  —  cross  the  other  member ;  and  that  puz- 
zles him  beyond  measure.  Yes,  I  feel  sorry  for  him  ; 
for,  as  3^ou  say,  he  is  sincere  and  earnest,  and  I  think 
our  men  are  particularly  hard  on  him.  He  told  us  the 
other  day,  in  an  almost  tearful  voice,  that  he  had  taught 
the  Senior  class  here  for  twenty  years,  and  that  we  were 
the  very  worst  Seniors  he  had  ever  had  any  thing  to  do 
with." 

Oh,  yes,"  returned  Wilkinson,  with  a  quick  laugh. 
"  He  told  our  men  the  same  thing.  I  believe  he  has 
told  every  class  so,  so  far  back  that  the  memory  of  man 
runneth  not  to  the  contrary.  I  am  not  sure  that  he 
does  not  say  so  to  gain  their  good-will ;  for  I  believe 
there  is  scarcely  a  man  that  does  not  feel  complimented 
at  the  charge,  whether  he  has  taken  part  in  the  irregu- 
larities  or  not." 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  right,"  said  Sam. 


SENIOR  YEAE. 


^169 


"Yon  have  the  Philosopher  in  logic  ant!  metaphysics 
this  year,  I  belieA^e.    Hotv  does  that  Trork?  *' 

"Yes,  we" have  the  Philosopher;  and  I  really  do  pity 
him.  He  tries  so  hard  to  explain  the  principles  that 
onderlie  these  branches,  and  give  ns  some  real  under- 
standing of  what  we  are  studying ;  and  is  so  patient  and 
painstaking,  going  over  the  ground  again  and  again,  so 
that  it  woukl  seem  as  though  the  dullest  might  compre- 
hend, while  the  fellows  are  for  the  most  part  so  careless 
and  inattentiA-e,  that  he  is  fairly  discouraged  at  times, 
as  any  one  can  see.'" 

"  The  Philosopher  is  a  favorite  of  yours,''  remarked 
"Wilkinson,  smiling  at  the  Senior's  warmth  and  earnest- 
ness. 

"  Yes :  I  believe  there  is  no  one  I  think  more  highly 
of." 

"  Not  even  excepting  the  Doctor  ?  " 
"  ]Sro,  not  even  excepting  him." 

"I  haven't  heard  about  your  class  elections:  they 
came  off  Friday,  I  understood.  I  haven't  been  in  town 
for  a  week." 

"  Yes,  every  thing  passed  off  very  pleasantly."'  said 
Sam,  as  he  settled  himself  in  his  chair  complacently. 

"  I  take  it  for  granted  that  Villiers  was  chosen  orator : 
there  was  hardly  any  one  to  dispute  the  place  with  him, 
I  should  say." 

"  No :  Yilliers  was  chosen  on  the  first  ballot,  and  the 
vote  was  made  unanimous ;  it  was  nearly  so  at  the  very 
first.  I  never  saw  one  more  completely  taken  by  sur- 
prise. I  don't  think  he  had  the  remotest  idea  that  any 
thing  of  the  kind  would  happen." 

"  Well,  he  will  do  you  credit." 


470 


STUDENT-LIEE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  I  believe  there  is  no  one  who  doubts  that  he  will." 
"  Do  I  know  any  of  the  marshals  ?  " 
"  Tom  was  chosen  first  marshal,  and  Adams  third." 
"  And  I  suppose  Mr.  Wentworth  is  to  be  the  second," 
laughingly. 

Sam  bowed  modestly. 

"  I  thought  the  crack  oar  of  the  class  must  come  in 
for  some  honors." 

Sam  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  state  that  he  might 
have  been  first  marshal,  but  that  his  refusal  to  take  the 
place  away  from  his  friend  was  unchangeable. 

"  Lyman  is  on  the  Class-Day  committee,  and  Lewis  is 
odist,"  continued  Sam. 

"  Where  is  your  chum  ?  didn't  he  get  any  thing  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Sam,  half  sadly.  "  I  was  sorry  for  him. 
His  name  came  up  several  times.  Villiers  and  I  did  all 
we  could  for  him;  but  it  was  no  use.  He  got  into 
rather  a  bad  mess  with  that  society  business,  you  know ; 
and  none  of  the  society  men  would  vote  for  him.  And, 
though  he  w^as  pretty  strong  with  the  outsiders,  their 
vote  alone  wasn't  enough  to  do  him  any  good." 

"I  should  say  not.  I  hadn't  heard  of  any  trouble 
with  the  societies.  I  knew  he  didn't  stand  exactly  as 
he  used  to  with  the  class  ;  but  I  always  supposed  he 
was  a  deucedly  strong  man.    What  was  the  matter?  " 

Hesitatingly,  "  It  is  no  secret,  Wilkinson,  or  I 
should  be  the  last  one  to  mention  it,  and  perhaps  I 
ought  not ;  but  it  was  this  way :  Of  course,  chum 
wanted  to  come  in  with  us :  his  old  set  was  here  pretty 
much ;  but  you  didn't  elect  him  last  year,  as  you  know ; 
and  when  I  came  back  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  I 
found  that  he  had  not  only  not  been  elected,  but  there 


SENIOR  YEAE. 


471 


was  an  extraorclinaiy  feeling  against  his  coming  in  at 
all.  At  length,  the  list  had  been  filled  except  three 
places ;  and  you  know  what  an  undertaking  it  is  to 
elect  anybody  when  it  gets  so  close  as  that." 

"  I  should  think  I  did,"  returned  Wilkinson,  laughing. 
He  had  been  a  leading  society-man  in  his  day. 

"  Well,  I  worked  for  him  the  best  I  knew  how,  and 
so  did  Villiers ;  and  together  we  talked  Tom  over.  And 
at  last,  Lyman,  who  had  been  the  most  determined, 
declaring  that  he  should  want  to  go  out  if  the  other 
came  in,  j'ielded,  and  accordingly  one  night  I  brought 
him  the  news  of  his  election ;  and  I  believe  I  had  not 
had  a  happier  hour  for  a  long  time,"  and  Sam's  voice 
grew  lower.  "  I  w^ent  into  the  Institute  on  his  nomina- 
tion or  suggestion,  almost  the  first  man  of  the  second 
ten ;  and  one  good  turn  deserves  another,  you  know." 
For  a  moment,  the  two  puffed  away  in  silence. 

I  thought  he  didn't  seem  altogether  exultant  over 
the  good  fortune  at  first,  though  he  was  more  jubilant 
by  and  by ;  and  we  went  about  initiating  him,  and 
L}Tiian  had  him  in  hand  to  put  through." 

"I  dare  say  Lyman  enjoyed  that,"  said  Wilkinson, 
with  a  short  laugh. 

"  Yes :  I  thought  Lyman  seemed  to  enjoy  it  rather 
better  than  chum  did.  We  were  getting  on  with  it, 
however,  and  Lyman  was  nearly  through,  when  the 
president  of  the  other  society  buttonholed  Tom  one 
day,  and  said  he  understood  that  we  were  initiating 
Huntingdon. 

" '  Yes,'  said  Tom,  in  surprise,  and  wondering  what 
business  it  could  be  of  his. 

"  '  We)l,'  he  continued,  dryly  enough,  '  he  had  pledged 


472 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


himself  to  us  before  you  elected  him  ;  and,  not  knowing 
of  that  event,  we  elected  him  in  due  course.  Oh,  we 
don't  claim  him,  or  don't  want  him :  you  are  welcome  to 
your  man ; '  and  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  left  Tom 
pretty  much  speechless  with  astonishment." 

"  By  Jove !  "  said  Wilkinson,  "  that  was  a  bad  go  ! 
Of  course,  you  dropped  him  at  that." 

"  Yes  :  there  was  no  help  for  it." 

"It  is  most  remarkable  how  that  man  has  fizzled 
out,"  said  Wilkinson.  "  Why,  he  kinged  it  over  the 
class  for  the  first  year  and  a  half ;  and,  with  his  splendid 
abilities,  there  is  nothing  he  might  not  have  aspired  to. 
I  always  said,  the  shadier  a  man  kept  the  first  two  years, 
the  better  it  was  for  him  ;  and  I  am  more  convinced  of 
it  now  than  ever  before." 

"  I  think  you  are  right,  though  I  doubt  if  it  was  that 
altogether." 

"  And  there  is  Villiers,"  continued  Wilkinson.  "  How 
green  and  awkward  that  man  was  at  first,  and  how 
everybody  roughed  him !  and  now  he  is  your  very 
strongest  man." 

"  Oh,  altogether  so ;  but  it  was  impossible  that  he 
should  not  get  on." 

As  the  law-student  rose  to  go,  Sam  said,  "  Come  and 
see  us  often,  Wilkinson.  I  have  enjoyed  the  evening 
above  every  thing."  The  guest  departed,  thinking  that 
he  too  had  enjoyed  an  uncommonly  pleasant  evening, 
and  feeling  pretty  sure  of  a  card  to  at  least  one  spread 
on  Class  Day. 

If  this  chapter  on  Senior  year  is  dull,  it  is  not  because 
the  year  is  uninteresting.    Socially  the  Seniors  are  at 


SENIOR  YEAR. 


473 


this  time  especial  pets  of  their  friends,  if  for  no  other 
reason,  because  Class  Day  is  coming  soon;  and  th pre  is 
hardly  a  man  who  does  not  enjoy  society  pleasures, 
dancing  and  feasting  and  flirting,  to  his  fill,  in  one  circle 
or  another.  Our  friends  were  no  exceptions  to  the  rule, 
but  on  this  memorable  winter  were  the  gayest,  and  the 
most  flattered  and  petted. 

The  very  best  and  most  interesting  chapter  of  the 
present  volume  ought  to  be  one  about  the  Senior  socie- 
ties ;  for  the  four  years  present  nothing  that  approaches 
the  peculiar  enjoyment  these  organizations  afford  to  the 
members.  But  for  the  most  part  the  matter  is  a  sealed 
book. 

It  is  well  known  that  there  is  a  theatre  in  the  society 
rooms,  and,  if  rumor  is  to  be  believed,  a  very  complete 
and  pretty  one,  where  plays,  burlesques,  and  original 
operettas  (for  these  last  are  from  time  to  time  published' 
in  the  "  Advocate  ")  are  brought  out  there,  in  a  way 
that  is  perfectly  enjoyable  to  the  audience.  It  is  gener- 
ally imderstood  that  the  young  gentlemen  occasionally 
make  up  into  "  stunning "  ladies,  and  even  appear  in 
ballet,  and  that  the  old  members  go  back  at  times  to 
these  entertainments,  on  which  occasions  there  is  feast- 
ing and  music  and  mirth.  And  when  the  many  pecu- 
liarities of  genius  that  exist  in  a  class  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  college-students  are  considered,  it  will  be  readily 
believed  that  these  good  times  surpass,  in  point  of  fact, 
any  high  repute  that  rumor  may  have  given  them. 

Though  Sam  was  usually  very  reticent  about  these 
matters,  he  told  one  story  that  threw  some  light  on  this 
society  business,  and  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  show 
how  he  had  made  Kate  the  \dctim  of  a  practical  joke, 


474 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAEVAED. 


though  he  was  quite  willing  to  admit  that  an  opportunity 
to  entrap  her  did  not  frequently  occur. 

"  We  used  to  dress  up  the  fellows  for  the  female  char- 
acters in  our  plays,"  said  he  ;  "  and  we  had  no  end  of 
fun  at  it  too.  You  can  have  no  idea  what  perfectly 
splendid  women  they  used  to  make  sometimes.  Smith 
was  the  best  we  had :  the  figure  was  pretty  stout,  but 
we  did  not  care  for  that.  In  certain  costumes  he  was 
divine,  absolutely  divine ! 

"  On  a  certain  night  we  were  going  to  bring  out  a 
little  opera  which  Lewis  had  written,  and  I  was  to  make 
love  to  Smith  (a  splendid  tenor)  in  double  bass. 

" '  What  sort  of  rig  shall  I  wear,  Sam  ?  have  you 
any  choice  ?  '  Smith  said  to  me  before  he  went  to  order 
the  costumes. 

"  '  Yes,  indeed,'  I  replied.  '  Get  a  white  dress,  by  all 
means  :  nothing  becomes  you  so  well.  In  a  white  dress 
and  one  of  those  yellow,  curling  wigs,  you  will  be  so 
charming  that  I  shall  forget  myself,  and  make  love  to 
you  in  earnest.'  We  had  our  rehearsals,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  I  should  be  very  soft  and  tender  "  — 

"  I  am  sure  you  found  no  difficulty  in  that,"  inter- 
rupted Kate. 

So  the  manager  thought  when  he  cast  me  for  the 
part,"  said  Sam,  roguishly ;  "  but  I  couldn't  get  up  much 
enthusiasm  at  the  rehearsals,  so  I  saved  it  up  for  the 
occasion  itself.  Play  night  came,  and  there  was  a 
crowd  of  old  members  besides  our  own  men,  and  the 
hall  was  packed ;  and  at  last  every  thing  was  in  readi- 
ness except  the  prima  donna.  '  Come,  hurry  up.  Smith ! ' 
said  Lewis,  v^ho  was  stage-manager,  rushing  into  the 
dressing-room,  M  hich  was  in  a  precious  state  of  confu- 
sion, "  we  are  waiting  for  you.' 


SENIOR  YEAR. 


475 


"  '  I  am  thinking  you  will  have  to  wait  a  little  longer 
Fred,'  said  Smith,  between  his  teeth ;  and  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  him,  or  rather  her,  as  she  stood  there : 
golden  curls,  classic  features,  a  most  decided  dishabille, 
while  clustered  around  her  were  half  a  dozen  gro- 
tesque figures,  the  characters  of  the  opera,  assisting  her 
out  of  some  difficulty  that  was  blocldng  the  progress  of 
events. 

"  '  What's  the  matter  ?  '  half  whispered  Lewis.  '  Why 
don't  you  put  your  dress  on  ?  ' 

" '  I  can't  get  it  on,'  said  Smith,  desperately.  '  It's 
too  small.  I  don't  see  what  is  going  to  be  done,  Fred. 
If  I  only  had  that  old  goose  [the  costumer]  here,  I'd 
teach  her  to  be  more  careful  next  time  I ' 

"  Smith  had  ordered,  and  the  old  lady  had  supplied,  a 
white  dress,  a  very  elegant  garment  indeed  of  satin, 
with  low  neck,  short  sleeves,  and  a  girth  to  fit  the  waist 
of  a  slender  girl.  '  Look  here  1 '  said  he,  holding  it  up  : 
'  I  can't  do  any  thing  with  that.' 

"  Generally  the  costumer  was  very  careful,  and  took 
pains  to  fit  the  dresses  to  the  young  gentlemen ;  but  this 
time  there  had  been  some  mistake. 

" '  You  must  get  into  it  the  best  way  you  can,'  said 
Lewis,  impatiently ;  and,  thus  exhorted.  Smith  slipped 
the  skirt  over  his  head  like  an  adept,  and  thrust  one 
sinewy  arm  into  the  strap  of  a  sleeve,  where  it  stuck 
fast  a  little  above  the  elbow. 

" '  Here,  let  me  rip  it  for  you,'  said  Lewis,  producing  a 
knife.    '  You  must  get  it  on  some  way.' 

'  Confound  the  thing  !  "  said  Smith,  in  disgust : '  why, 
there  are  no  sleeves  and  no  neck  to  it ;  and  I  am  as 
brown  as  a  berry.    I  can't  show  myself  this  way.' 


476 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"'We  can  chalk  you,  I  guess,'  said  Lewis,  testily. 
'  You  ought  to  have  looked  out  for  this.  I  ouldn't 
have  had  it  happen  for  a  thousand  dollars.'  Lewis, 
that  monument  of  good-nature  and  self-control,  was 
losing  his  temper  very  fast. 

"  Meantime  it  was  rip  !  rip  !  tear !  tear !  and  at  last 
the  armhole  admitted  the  thews  and  sinews,  and  the 
other  arm  was  introduced  into  the  other  armhole ;  and 
finally  on  it  went.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  and  Sam  laughed  tear- 
fully at  the  recollection.  "  You  ought  to  have  heard  the 
fellows  roar.  The  little  waist  with  its  trimming  and 
flummery  about  half  covered  Smith's  broad  chest ;  and 
no  amount  of  coaxing  and  pulling  could  make  it  meet. 
The  audience  outside  the  curtain  caught  sound  of  the 
laughter,  and  applauded  to  the  echo.  They  were 
becoming  impatient ;  but  the  play  could  not  go  on,  or 
even  begin,  till  the  prima  donna  was  dressed. 

"  One  of  the  boys  had  been  rummaging  in  the  trunk, 
however ;  and,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  it  appeared 
that  the  old  lady  had  been  thoughtful  enough  to  put  in 
a  loose  white  waist  made  of  some  thin  material,  with 
sleeves  and  a  high  neck,  and  of  abundant  girth.  The 
satin  waist  was  detached  from  the  skirt  in  a  twinkling, 
and  Smith  was  ready  in  a  trice.  Good-nature  once 
more  possessed  the  cheery  face  of  the  stage-manager ; 
the  stage  was  speedily  cleared ;  the  bell  rang ;  the  cur- 
tain rose.  The  opera  was  an  immense  success,  and 
at  its  close  Lewis  was  called  out,  and  received  three 
times  three,  which  he  fully  deserved. 

"  But  this  is  all  by  way  of  preface,"  continued  Sam, 
with  a  droll  glance  at  his  sister  :  "  the  story  is  yet  to  be 
told.    Smith  was  so  divine,  that  I  persuaded  him  th.& 


SENIOE  YEAR. 


477 


next  morning  to  array  himself  in  his  robes,  after  which 
we  took  a  carriage,  and  went  to  a  photographer's  where 
he  sat  for  his  picture.  It  is  in  mj  album  there  now  ; 
and  I  challenge  any  one  to  pick  it  out  as  not  being  a 
lady's  picture.  Then,  shortly  before  the  May  recess,  I 
sent  one  of  them  to  Kate,  and  wrote  her  that  it  was  a 
Miss  Smith,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  recently  made  in 
Cambridge,  and  with  whom  I  had  been  very  much 
charmed,  —  so  much  so  that  after  careful  and  serious 
thought  I  had  asked  her  to  marry  me,  and  she  had  con- 
sented, though  the  engagement  was  not  to  come  out  till 
Class  Day ;  at  the  same  time  I  begged  her  not  to  tell 
mother  till  I  should  come  home.  Smith  was  one  of 
Kate's  very  particular  friends,  and  had  been  in  our 
house  scores  of  times,  besides  meeting  Kate  at  Worces- 
ter and  at  Cambridge ;  and  I  never  imagined  but  that 
she  would  discover  the  original  in  the  photograph.  But 
she  was  thoroughly  deceived.  She  reasoned  with  me 
and  talked  to  me,  when  I  went  home  in  May,  in  a  way 
that  was  too  comical.  She  even  cried  about  it;  said 
the  young  lady  was  coarse  and  stagy-looking,  and  not 
a  bit  nice ;  and  she  was  such  a  picture  of  grief,  sobbing, 
with  her  head  on  my  shoulder,  that  I  finally  told  her 
who  the  original  was."   Sam  went  off  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Yes ;  I  give  in,"  said  Kate,  joining  in  the  mirth. 
"  I  ought  to  have  been  brighter,  I  confess ;  but  Sam 
had  had  so  many  affairs  with  divine  young  ladies  in 
Cambridge  and  its  vicinity,  and  his  letter  was  so  straight- 
forward and  honest,  and  he  seemed  so  happy  about 
the  engagement  when  he  came  home,  that  I  never 
should  have  guessed  the  truth." 


478 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Sam  had  behaved  very  well  during  the  year  that  had 
elapsed  since  his  suspension.  In  the  summer  following 
that  event,  his  mother  and  sister  had  made  the  tour  of 
the  mountains  with  him,  returning  in  time  to  have  a 
w^eek  at  home  together  before  the  Senior  year  should 
call  the  young  man  back  to  Cambridge  ;  and  the  last 
days  of  his  suspension  had  been  different  from  the  first. 
He  had  come  out  of  the  mist  which  had  at  that  time 
enshrouded  him,  and  made  every  thing  look  so  gloomy, 
and  saw  something  of  that  divine  fitness  of  things  which 
Villiers  had  so  earnestly  endeavored  to  point  out  to 
him.  He  had  even  come  to  rejoice  at  his  two  "  hair- 
breadth escapes,"  as  he  was  wont  to  call  his  two  love- 
affairs.  He  still  vowed  that  Rose  Thorne  was  the 
fairest  creature  alive ;  but  his  infatuation  for  her  had 
apparently  passed  away.  "  It  is  all  over,"  he  said,  heart- 
ily, a  score  of  times,  —  "  all  over,  and  a  good  thing  to 
have  been  through  with ;  for,  after  all,  the  most  glorious 
heritage  a  man  has,  or  can  have,  is  his  freedom  ;  and  I 
wouldn't  barter  it  away,  to  be  tied  down  to  any  woman. 
Eh,  Villiers  ? "  To  this  sage  interrogatory,  it  was 
Villiers's  wont  to  make  no  reply. 

For  Mrs.  Went  worth,  the  last  days  which  her  son 
spent  at  home  had  indeed  been  delightful  days.  Sam 
was  more  like  the  happy,  free-hearted  boy  he  used  to 
be  before  he  went  to  college,  than  it  had  at  one  time 
seemed  possible  he  could  ever  be  again ;  and,  in  addition 
to  this,  there  was  something  about  him,  — -  a  deeper  cur- 
rent to  his  life,  a  manliness  and  character  in  his  con- 
duct, that  made  her  proud  of  him,  as  she  might  well  be. 
She  had  no  fears  for  the  Senior  year  ;  nor  could  her  fears, 
if  she  had  entertained  any,  have  been  aught  but  ground 


SENIOR  YEAK. 


479 


less.  It  came  and  passed  by,  witli  its  elevating  and 
ennobling  work,  leaving  its  inevitable  impress  for  good 
on  all  tlie  members  of  the  class,  and,  in  not  the  least 
degree,  on  the  sensitive  and  impressionable  mind  of  her 
son.  He  had  become  very  nearly  a  scholar,  very  nearly 
a  gentleman,  in  the  truest  sense.  He  caught  glimpses, 
ay,  more  than  glimpses,  of  that  perfect  manhood,  the 
attainment  of  which  he  by  degrees  understood  to  be 
the  one  great  object  of  life ;  and  he  realized  too,  before 
the  Senior  year  was  done,  for  how  much  of  tliis  noble 
ambition  he  was  indebted  to  the  college,  and  the  four 
years  he  had  passed  there. 

Where  was  Ruth  Leigh  all  this  time  ?  She  was,  ere 
this,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  very  considerable  income  of 
her  own,  and  had  become  quite  a  little  lady.  She  was 
working  hard  at  an  excellent  school,  a  score  of  miles 
from  Cambridge,  trying  to  make  up  for  lost  time ;  for 
all  which  good  things  she  was  indebted  to  Mr.  Villiers, 
and  his  thorough-going  way  of  attending  to  business. 
She  and  Sam  had  never  met  since  that  December  morn- 
ing in  the  Junior  year,  when  he  had  left  her  well-nigh 
heart-broken.  He  had  quite  a  pile  of  letters  from  her, 
however,  filed  away  among  his  private  papers ;  and  they 
plainly  told  the  story  of  her  improvement.  They  were 
cramped  in  penmanship,  childish  in  expression,  and  full 
of  errors,  at  first ;  but  the  latest  ones  were  very  faultless 
epistles  indeed ;  and  he  was  to  see  a  very  intelligent 
and  polished  young  lady  on  Class  Day,  which  was  close 
at  hand. 

Yes ;  the  shadow  of  Class  Day,  that  festival  which 
crowns  with  its  joys  the  close  of  every  student's  Kfe  at 


480 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Harvard,  had  at  last  drawn  very  near.  The  work  of 
the  course  was  completed.  The  Seniors  had  formed  in 
front  of  Holworthy,  and  marched  in  single  file  to  Har- 
vard Hall,  for  the  last  annual.  It  was  hardly  possible 
for  the  student  to  realize  that  it  was  the  last,  as  he  came 
sedately  out  of  the  hall,  and  folded  and  laid  away  the 
examination-paper.  Was  there  really  to  be  no  more 
digging  ?  The  mind  failed  to  comprehend  it  all,  for  a 
time. 

The  arrangements  for  Class  Day  and  the  spreads 
were  at  last  comipleted.  What  a  deal  of  intriguing, 
and  wire-pulling,  and  trading-off  of  rooms,  there  had 
been,  that  the  right  men  might  come  together !  Some 
of  the  rooms  of  the  lower  classes,  particularly  the 
"  tree "  rooms,  had  been  spoken  for  these  two  years. 
There  had  been  a  vast  deal  of  manoeuvring,  before 
every  thing  could  be  finally  settled,  and  there  had  been 
some  hard  feeling ;  but  all  was  satisfactorily  arranged 
at  last. 


XXX. 


THE  TRIAL  TRIP. 

The  two  friends  finished  their  last  annual  by  the 
Monday  noon  preceding  Class  Day. 

"  I  am  going  down  for  mother  and  Kate  this  after- 
noon. Come  with  me,  will  you  ?  We  shall  have  just 
time  for  dinner  at  Parker's,  and  the  afternoon  train." 

Villiers  stood  irresolute. 

"  We  are  all  coming  up  Wednesday  morning ;  and 
the  change  will  rest  you,  and  freshen  you  for  Friday." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  ought  not,  Sam,"  said  conscientious 
Villiers,  who  saw  a  score  of  duties  for  the  two  days  that 
would  thus  be  devoted  to  pleasure. 

"  Don't  disappoint  me,"  continued  Sam,  earnestly, 
putting  his  arm  through  his  friend's.  "  There  is  time 
enough  for  every  thing ;  and  I  want  your  judgment  on 
'The  Ruby'  [the  boat  he  had  built  for  Kate].  The 
builder  is  going  down  with  her  to-day,  is  there  now 
perhaps ;  and  we  must  try  the  craft  before  Kate  uses 
her." 

Villiers  yielded  at  that,  and  evening  saw  the  two 
students  at  Mrs.  Wentworth's  mansion. 

They  had  planned  an  excursion  in  "  The  Ruby  "  for 
the  next  morning.  But,  though  the  boat-builder  had 
delivered  his  work  as  complete,  Sam  found  many  little 

481 


482 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


changes  to  make ;  and  the  forenoon  wore  away,  and  the 
party  had  not  started.  Both  boats  lay  at  the  Unding, 
the  old  one  with  her  sails  set  and  idly  flapping  in  the 
sultry  breeze,  for  the  day  had  been  most  oppressive. 
Sam  was  sitting  on  a  thwart,  working  at  the  water- 
breaker,  vainly  trying  to  extract  the  bung.  Every  thing 
else  had  been  already  transferred  to  "  The  Ruby,"  and 
it  remained  but  to  fill  this  cask  at  the  spring,  when  all 
would  be  in  readiness  for  the  start.  "  Confound  it ! " 
he  said,  hot  and  impatient  with  his  fruitless  efforts. 
"  I  should  think  it  had  grown  in  there ; "  and  he  jumped 
out,  and  hurried  up  to  the  house  for  a  hatchet  or  ham- 
mer. 

Just  then  Kate  came  down  the  path  with  some 
wraps  and  a  lunch-basket.  She  dropped  the  wraps  into 
"  The  Ruby,"  deposited  the  basket  on  the  landing,  and 
glanced  out  over  the  bay.  How  the  waters  gleamed 
and  danced  in  the  sunlight!  The  sails  of  the  honest 
old  craft,  now  quite  eclipsed  by  the  new  comer,  moved 
gently  in  invitation.  "  I  believe  there  is  time  for  a 
little  sail:  we  cannot  go  now  till  after  dinner,"  she 
thought.  And  she  stepped  aboard,  and  cast  off,  and 
was  half  a  mile  from  the  landing  before  Sam,  hatchet  in 
hand,  came  running  down  the  path. 

To  his  disgust,  he  saw  the  boat  gliding  smootlily  and 
swiftly  away,  and  hailed  with  all  his  might;  but  the 
distance  was  too  great.  "  If  she  had  only  waited  till  I 
had  taken  out  the  water-cask,"  he  said,  a  little  irritated, 
"  she  might  have  gone  in  welcome.  Well,  we  can't  do 
any  thing  now  until  after  dinner  ;  "  and  he  disappeared 
into  the  boat-house. 

Meantime  Kate,  taking  such  a  course  as  would  enable 


THE  TRIAL  TEIP. 


483 


her  to  return  easily,  was  gliding  over  the  water  with  a 
free  wind ;  and  the  motion  was  so  exhilarating  that  she 
was  well  out  on  the  outer  harbor  before  she  realized 
that  it  was  time  for  her  to  return.  But  the  breeze, 
which  had  been  growing  lighter,  failed  entirely  as  she 
put  the  boat  about ;  the  sails  hung  loosely ;  the  boat 
rolled  unpleasantly;  there  was 'not  a  breath  of  air,  and 
she  waited  half  an  hour. 

"  This  is  certainly  provoking,"  she  said,  and  rising 
looked  over  the  water  in  every  direction.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  breeze  farther  in  shore,  if  she  could  row  in  till 
she  reached  it ;  and  she  looked  for  the  oars.  But  Sam 
had  taken  them  out.  There  was  literally  nothing  in 
the  boat  save  the  empty  water-cask  with  its  tight-fitting 
bung.  She  could  do  nothing  but  wait ;  and  the  sails 
flapped  idly  as  the  boat  rolled  in  the  sea  way  while  the 
water  swashed  up  against  the  sides,  and  occasionally  a 
little  came  aboard ;  for  it  had  been  blowing  fresh  all 
the  night,  and  was  rough  ;  and  thus  another  half-hour 
slipped  away. 

A  sudden  flaw  of  cold  east  wind  struck  and  half  cap- 
sized the  boat,  sending  a  shiver  through  the  girl ;  a 
lull  succeeded,  as  the  gust  rushed  landward,  and  in  a 
moment  a  smart  shower  with  big  drops  drenched  her, 
and  cut  off  the  shore  from  view. 

Then  once  more  every  thing  was  still.  The  troubled 
surface  of  the  sea  grew  black  as  the  sky  seemed  to  be 
obscured  in  all  quarters  at  once  ;  but  there  was  no  wind. 

Masses  of  clouds  low  in  the  heavens  came  dark  and 
angry  from  the  south,  and  twisted  and  twirled  across 
the  zenith  in  a  wild  dance ;  but  still  there  was  no  wind. 

At  this  she  began  to  be  alarmed.    "  I  must  take  the 


484 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


sails  down,  for  there  is  going  to  be  a  storm ; "  and  sho 
wished  herself  safe  at  home. 

But  the  sails  refused  to  come  down.  It  happened 
that  the  halyards  were  new,  and  had  scarcely  been 
used ;  moreover,  the  rain  had  wet  the  new  rope,  which 
was  kinked  and  twisted  in  an  inextricable  tangle  ;  it 
appeared  also  in  its  swollen  condition  to  be  too  large 
for  the  blocks.  The  foresail  fell  half  way,  and  stuck 
fast ;  the  mainsail  would  not  lower  at  all.  She  looked 
at  the  black,  threatening  clouds,  and  then  at  the  spread 
of  canvas  which  all  her  efforts  could  not  make  less. 
"If  I  only  had  a  knife!"  flashed  through  her  brain; 
and  she  searched  every  part  of  the  boat  with  a  desperate 
eagerness,  though  in  vain ;  then,  since  she  could  do 
nothing  more,  she  sat  quietly  at  the  tiller,  and  awaited 
the  event. 

In  the  midst  of  her  own  great  peril,  her  heart  grieved 
at  the  destruction  which  threatened  the  faithful  old 
boat.  The  sails  hanging  so  helplessly  seemed  mutely  to 
appeal  to  her  for  assistance,  as  though  beseeching  her 
not  to  put  their  strength  to  this  impossible  test ;  but, 
even  as  she  rose  to  make  one  more  effort,  the  squall 
came  surging  over  the  water,  striking  with  resistless 
force.  The  mainmast  went  with  a  crash  ;  the  sail,  catch- 
ing the  wind,  ballooned  up  for  an  instant ;  and  mast  and 
sail  and  rigging  were  lifted  high  into  the  air,  and  swept 
to  leeward  like  a  leaf.  The  foresail  which  was  half 
down  and  tied  up,  strained  hard ;  the  mast  bent,  but 
held ;  and  the  old  craft,  plunging  forward  before  the 
gale,  pointed  straight  out  to  sea.  Kate  bowled  her  head 
wit]  I  a  prayer  that  God  might  guide  it  in  its  mad 
course.  The  broad  ocean  was  before,  the  roaring  hurri- 
cane and  rising  waters  behind. 


THE  TRIiLL  TRIP. 


485 


Even  in  this  hour  of  peril  she  could  but  feel  a  certain 
enjoyment  in  the  wild  magnificence  of  the  scene,  as  she 
flew  before  the  fury  of  the  storm.  The  sky,  dark  and 
lowering,  torn  and  rent  in  shapeless  masses,  ^hut  down 
close  on  every  side.  The  shore  was  cut  off  from  view; 
the  clouds  whirled  along  in  a  SAvift  fantastic  dance ; 
the  air  was  filled  with  flying  spray ;  every  wave  was 
white-capped;  the  sea  ran  high,  and  every  moment 
higher.  Kate  felt  the  grandeur  of  it  all  in  spite  of  her 
imminent  danger. 

For  a  moment  there  seemed  to  be  a  lull,  and  she  took 
heart.  Then  with  a  frightful  roar,  and  a  rain  of  blind- 
ing spray,  the  storm  came  again  to  the  charge.  Her 
hat  flew  into  the  air  ;  she  was  well-nigh  lifted  from  her 
place  in  the  boat.  The  foresail  with  a  loud  flap  was 
torn  away  from  the  stops  into  a  thousand  shreds.  She 
felt  that  she  must  meet  death  now.  So  long  as  the  sail 
held,  and  she  could  scud  before  the  tempest,  she  was 
comparatively  safe ;  for  the  fury  of  the  wind  must  abate 
before  long.  But  now  she  knew  the  boat  would  soon 
lose  steerage,  and  come  broadside  to,  and  then  the  sea 
would  break  over  her,*  and  she  would  go  down,  and  there 
was  not  even  an  oar  to  cling  to.  She  was  a  brave  girl, 
but  life  was  sweet  to  her,  —  how  sweet,  she  had  never 
known  till  now.  She  thought  of  her  mother,  ever  so 
gentle  and  patient  and  kind ;  of  her  splendid  brother ; 
of  her  lover  —  for  such  she  then  felt  Villiers  to  be. 
With  a  shudder  she  covered  her  face,  as  a  big  white- 
crested  mountain  towered  above  her  for  an  instant,  and 
then  curling  and  breaking  poured  tons  of  cold,  green, 
pitiless  water  into  the  helpless  boat.  She  felt  the  boat 
sink  under  her,  when,  lo  !  something  dashed  against  her 


486 


STUDENT-LUTE  AT  HARVAED. 


body,  and  her  arms  clasped  and  her  hands  clutched  with 
all  the  strength  of  instinct  and  despair,  the  abused  and 
forgotten  water-cask,  which  was  there  to  save  her  life. 
At  the  same  instant,  above  the  roar  of  the  tempest,  a 
shout  of  encouragement  reached  her  ears. 

Villiers  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  drive  to  a  neigh- 
bor's some  ten  or  twelve  miles  away,  and  bring  two 
young  lady  friends  of  Kate's  to  go  on  the  excursion : 
and  the  trio  reached  the  house  just  as  the  sky  seemed 
to  threaten  a  squall,  and  it  appeared  that  the  sail  w^ould 
have  to  be  given  up. 

Kate  w^ent  down  to  the  landing  an  hour  ago,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth,  as  they  rested  for  a  moment  in  the 
broad  porch.    "  I  will  send  for  her." 

"And  I  will  be  your  messenger,"  said  Villiers,  "if 
you  will  permit  me.  Perhaps  I  had  better  take  an 
umbrella."  Thus  equipped  he  strode  down  the  path  to 
the  landing.  There  was  no  one  there.  There  were  the 
wraps  in  "The  Ruby"  as  Kate  had  left  them  ;  the  lunch- 
basket  was  on  the  wharf ;  the  sail  w^as  loosed  from  the 
stops,  and  was  ready  to  hoist ;  but  the  old  boat  was 
gone.  Climbing  the  hill  half  way  to  the  house,  he 
could  see  it  far  out  on  the  bay.  "  Surely  they  can't 
have  gone  out  in  this  weather,"  he  thought,  forgetting 
how  pleasant  it  was  an  hour  ago.  "  Perhaps  they  are  in 
the  boat-house  ; "  and  with  hasty  strides  he  reached  the 
door. 

"  O  Villi(;rs !  "  hailed  Sam,  out  of  the  half  gloom, 
"  you  don't  Bay  that  you  have  come  at  last !  Are  you 
all  ready?  I  believe  a  little  dinner  would  please  me 
now  as  well  as  any  thing ;  "  and  he  rose  leisurely  from  a 
pile  of  fishing-gear  he  had  been  overhauling,  at  the 
same  time  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe. 


THE  TRIAL  TRIP. 


487 


"  Where  is  Kate  ?  "  asked  Yilliers,  almost  fiercely. 

"  Kate  ?  "  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  of  surprise.  "  Hasn't 
she  come  back  yet  ?  She  went  out  for  a  sail  an  hour  — 
My  God  ! "  as,  emerging  from  the  gloom,  Sam  looked 
hurriedly  at  the  sky.  "  It  is  going  to  blow  a  hurricane, 
and  she  is  out  there  alone.  Why  don't  she  get  her  sails 
down,  and  reef  them?  She  must  see  that  there  is  a 
squall  coming  on." 

"  Come  !  "  shouted  Villiers,  as,  plunging  down  the 
hill,  he  leaped  aboard  "  The  Ruby."  "  We  are  wasting 
time  :  we  must  go  for  her.  No  girl  could  manage  that 
boat  in  such  a  storm  as  we  are  going  to  have.  Hand 
me  that  basket ;  "  and  he  stowed  it  away,  together  with 
the  wraps.  "  Now  the  oars  ;  you  take  in  a  reef,  and  I 
will  pull  her  out." 

"  Wait ! "  shouted  back  Sam,  half-way  up  the  hill. 
"  I  must  tell  mother.    Wait !    I  must  tell  her." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  met  him  at  the  door,  and  understood 
but  too  well.  The  sea  I  Was  it  indeed  to  be  the 
grave  of  all  she  loved  ?  She  drew  him  to  her  an 
instant,  in  a  close  and  tearful  embrace  ;  and  then  he 
dashed  down  the  path,  just  in  time,  for  Yilliers  with 
uoundless  impatience  had  reefed  and  hoisted  the  sail, 
and  cast  off  just  as  Sam  sprang  aboard.  It  was  his 
love's  life  that  was  waiting,  —  more  to  him  than  all 
the  world. 

Villiers  had  already  possessed  himself  of  the  oars, 
and  was  pulling  like  a  giant.  Sam  stood  at  the  tiller, 
watching  the  threatening  clouds.  It  seemed  as  though 
the  storm  must  burst  every  second  ;  but  it  held  off. 
It  was  necessary  to  change  their  course,  on  passing  into 
the  bay ;  and  if  they  could  fairly  get  outside  before  the 


488 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


squall  came,  they  would  escape  a  danger^)us  passage 
through  a  narrow,  rocky,  and  tortuous  channel,  which 
both  feared  they  might  not  otherwise  accomplish. 

"  Let  me  take  the  oars,"  said  Sam ;  for  it  seemed 
impossible  to  stand  there  doing  nothing. 

"  No.  We  are  doing  as  well  as  we  can ; "  and  indeed 
the  boat  was  ploughing  rapidly  through  the  water. 

"  There  it  comes  !  "  shouted  Sam.  "  In  with  your 
oars,  or  you  will  lose  them.  We  shall  certainly  need 
another  reef."  They  were  half  through  the  narrow  chan- 
nel, when  the  squall  struck  them  broadside.  The  boat 
careened  till  the  standing-room  was  half  full  of  water ; 
but  they  must  clear  the  ledge,  just  now  to  leeward  of 
them,  or  go  down  in  the  attempt.  It  was  only  half  a 
minute,  and  then  they  were  past  it,  out  in  the  bay  ;  and, 
as  the  boat's  head  fell  away,  she  rose  promptly  to  even 
keel,  and,  getting  square  before  it,  almost  buried  herself 
as  she  plunged  forward. 

"  There  she  is  !  "  cried  Sam,  getting  sight,  for  the 
first  time,  of  the  chase.  "  The  squall  hasn't  struck  her 
yet ;  one  of  the  sails  is  part  way  down.  Why  don't 
she  lower  them  ?    She  must  see  it  coming." 

Yilliers,  working  with  tremendous  force,  was  bailing 
out  a  ton  of  water,  and  just  glanced  ahead. 

"  There  goes  the  mainsail  like  a  kite.  Ah !  the 
foresail  holds,  and  she  falls  off.  We  must  overhaul  her 
soon  !  " 

Then  the  thick-flying  spray  hid  the  object  of  their 
chase  from  view ;  and  both  young  men  looked  forward 
with  agonizing  expectancy  and  straining  eyes,  with 
hats  gone,  and  hair  blown  wildly  about;  they  too  could 
only  wait. 


THE  TRIAL  TRIP. 


489 


From  the  windows  of  the  house,  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
mth  white  face  and  straining  eyes,  watched  the  young 
fellows  pull  out  on  to  the  bay,  saw  the  storm  burst  in 
its  fury ;  and  in  a  few  seconds  all  was  hidden  from 
view.  Words  cannot  tell  her  grief.  She  stood  mute 
and  motionless  while  the  old  house  rocked  on  its  founda- 
tions ;  and  branches  torn  from  trees,  bricks  from  chim- 
neys, loose  boards,  and  clouds  of  dust,  flying  past  in 
mad  confusion,  bore  witness  to  the  violence  of  the  blast. 
It  was  almost  past  her  comprehension ;  and  she  too 
could  only  wait. 

Still  the  little  Ruby  "  hasted  on.  It  seemed  as  if 
she  had  been  built  for  this  hour.  Almost  any  other 
boat  in  such  a  hurricane,  and  under  such  a  press  of 
canvas,  must  soon  have  run  herself  under ;  a  lighter 
sail  must  have  gone  to  tatters  at  the  first  burst  of  the 
tempest ;  a  single  flaw  in  the  mast  would  have  sent  it 
by  the  board.  The  strain  was  terrible ;  but  every  thing 
was  new  and  stamich,  and  every  thing  held.  The  pace 
was  grand,  terrific  almost.  They  seemed  to  leap  from 
wave  to  wave,  and  at  times  to  shoot  from  the  water. 

"  There  she  is,  Sam  !  "  shouted  Yilliers,  in  a  sup- 
pressed voice,  and  pointing  nervously,  —  way  off  there, 
to  right  of  us !  " 

*•  if  things  only  hold  together  five  minutes  longer  !  " 
said  Sam  between  his  teeth,  as  he  changed  his  course ; 
and  then,  with  that  second  attack  of  the  storm,  they 
saw  the  sail  blown  into  shreds.  Yilliers's  face  grew 
white,  as  he  saw  the  helpless  old  boat  broach  to,  and 
knew  what  must  soon  follow.  The  seconds  were  like 
hours.  They  were  almost  within  hailing  distance :  if 
she  would  only  look  around,  and  take  courage  !  But 


490 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Kate's  thoughts  are  no  longer  of  safety,  no  longer  of 
life.  Villiers  raised  his  voice  ;  it  was  lost  in  the  war 
of  the  elements.  A  sea  rolling  crosswise  turned  the 
boat  broadside  to  the  wind  ;  a  broken-crested  mountain 
of  water  filled  and  sank  her  before  their  very  eyes. 

"  My  God  !  "  said  Sam,  wildly.  "  And  there  is  noth- 
ing for  her  to  cling  to.  I  stripped  the  boat  of  every 
thing,  this  very  morning." 

"  Ha !  "  shouted  Villiers,  galvanized  into  life,  "  she  is 
floating!  see,  on  top  of  that  wave.  Shout!  she  must 
hear  us."  And  again  and  again  they  sent  their  voices 
over  the  waters.  The  sound  reached  her  ears,  and 
revived  her  heart,  though  her  eyes  were  blinded  by  the 
salt  spray. 

"  Now,  Sam,"  said  Villiers,  desperately,  "do  you  steer 
for  your  very  life,  and  I  will  pick  her  up.  As  soon  as  I 
catch  her,  clamp  the  tiller,  and  help  me  pull  her  in." 

He  nerved  himself  for  the  struggle  :  he  summoned 
all  the  forces  of  his  manhood  to  this  one  effort.  Reader, 
you  cannot  know  the  dread  danger  of  failure,  or  the 
fearful  effort  that  alone  could  crown  success.  They 
were  shooting  on  with  a  desperate  ppeed  which  no 
power  of  theirs  could  abate  ;  now  plunging  into  a  huge 
wave,  now  toppling  on  the  crest  of  a  breaker,  now 
dropping  down,  down  into  a  yawning  abyss.  They 
stood  breathless,  almost  heart-sick.  She  rose  on  top  of 
the  next  wave ;  there  was  a  dive  downward  like  a  flash, 
a  struggle,  a  sound  of  rushing  water ;  and  witli  a  super- 
human effort  such  as  scarcely  any  other  man  could  b^ 
capable  :)f,  before  Sam  could  render  aid,  he  drew  her 
into  the  boat,  half  drowned,  senseless,  but  alive.  Vil- 
liers's  clatch  on  her  arm  left  its  marks  for  months. 


THE  TEIAL  TRIP. 


^91 


Sam  flung  his  arms  around  Villiers's  nec"k,  and  kissed 
him:  and  they  both  cried  for  jov. 

T\lien  the  Glee  Club  and  the  Pierian  Sodality  gave 
their  annual  concert  on  Wednesday  evening  before 
Class  Day.  Sam  vras  in  his  place  among  the  hassi 
secundi,  as  if  nothing  unusual  had  transpii^ed :  and  Mrs. 
Wentworth  and  Kate,  and  Villiers,  Miss  Eldredge.  T\'ill 
Adams,  and  Mr.  Cartier.  vrere  a  part  of  the  brilliant  com- 
paiiy  that  thronged  the  little  hall  in  spite  of  the  pour- 
ing rain ;  for  it  is  said  ahvays  to  rain  on  the  occasion 
of  this  concert.  If  Kate  vas  more  Cjuiet  than  ^vas  her 
vont.  the  friends  missed  her  sparkling  talk  and  merry 
laughter  vnthout  guessing  the  cause;  and  no -one  vas 
surpri-ed  that  Mr.  Villiers  should  be  more  abstracted, 
grave,  and  dignified  than  usual. 

The  next  day  was  a  busy  one.  The  final  preparations 
for  the  festival  of  the  college  year  Avere  completed. 
The  lawn  in  front  of  Holworthy  had  been  clipped  and 
rolled,  the  vralks  also  trimmed  and  swept  and  sprinkled 
and  rolled ;  bright  dresses  fluttered  hither  and  thither. 
Class  Day  eve  came  at  last :  and  with  many  an  anxious 
look  at  the  cloudy  sky,  and  many  an  earnest  wish  for  a 
fair  morrow,  the  Senior  retired  to  be  fi^esh  and  strong 
for  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  the  morning. 


XXXI. 


CLASS  DAY. 

The  day  dawned  at  last,  on  which  the  class  —  a  unit 
for  four  years  —  met  together  for  the  last  time ;  and  for 
the  first  and  last  time  the  characters  in  this  little  story 
also  are  all  of  them  brought  together. 

The  morning  was  bright.  "  Wake  up,  chum ! " 
shouted  Sam,  knocking  on  the  partition  of  Hunting- 
don's room.  "  Wake  up,  and  see  what  a  glorious  morn- 
ing it  is :  it  has  rained  during  the  night,  and  is  clear ;  " 
and  he  leaned  half  out  of  the  window  to  survey  the 
azure  sky.  He  dodged  in  again,  however,  just  in  time 
to  escape  a  drenching  from  water  showered  down  from 
the  window  above  by  Longstreet,  who,  ever  alert,  had 
heard  his  first  call.  Almost  instantly  there  was  a  shout 
through  all  Holworthy,  a  cry  of  "  Heads  out ! "  Frowzy 
heads  and  white  shoulders  protruded  from  all  the  rear 
.windows  of  the  Hall.  There  was  a  universal  exclama- 
tion of  delight  at  the  prospect  of  fine  weather.  Sleep 
for  the  Seniors  was  at  an  end.    Class  Day  had  begun ! 

Sam  breakfasted  with  his  mother  and  Kate,  as  he 
had  done  every  day  since  their  sojourn  in  Cambridge. 
"  Some  one  must  go  for  Ruth :  I  am  afraid  I  can't  get 
ofp,"  he  said,  as  they  rose  from  the  table. 

"  Mother  and  I  will  go,"  exclaimed  Kate.    "  We  can 

492 


CLASS  DAY. 


493 


take  a  carriage,  and  drive  to  the  station  for  her.  For 
one,  I  am  dying  to  see  her,  and  have  been  for  year. 
I  believe  you  don't  care  half  as  much  about  it  as  I  do," 
she  added,  with  an  impatient  glance  at  her  brother's 
cool,  easy  indifference. 

"  No,  probably  not.  There  are  vBry  few  emotions  so 
strong  as  female  curiosity.  Now,  don't  crush  her  with 
your  grand  airs,  Kate,  as  you  generally  do  young  ladies 
when  you  meet  them  for  the  first  time.  Remember  she 
is  a  tender  little  thing,  and  be  kind  to  her  for  my  sake." 

"How  are  we  to  distinguish  her  from  others?  We 
have  never  met  her,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"You  ladies  never  more  than  half  conclude  your 
arrangements.  She  should  have  worn  a  pale  red  rose 
in  her  hair,"  said  Sam,  enjoying  Kate's  perplexity. 

"  Pale  red  nonsense ! "  returned  that  young  lady. 
"  We  coiinted  on  you,  to  be  sure,  to  go  and  meet  the 
'  tender  little  thing  '  with  us.  Who  could  have  guessed 
your  time  was  going  to  be  so  immensely  precious?  " 

"  There  seems  to  be  no  help  for  it  now,"  said  Sam, 
not  ill  pleased ;  and  they  drove  swiftly  up  to  Porter's, 
where  they  waited  for  the  train  that  was  to  bring  Ruth ; 
the  ladies  in  the  carriage  on  the  bridge,  Sam  on  the 
platform  below.  It  came  at  last ;  and  Sam  scanned 
carefully  the  company  of  gayly  attired  ladies  thronging 
the  platform,  for  the  childish  and  bewitching  face  so 
well  remembered. 

"I  don't  see  her,"  he  said:  "women  are  always  late ; 
left  behind,  I  dare  say !  "  and  he  was  more  disappointed 
than  he  would  have  believed  he  could  be,  when  a  soft 
touch  was  laid  on  his  arm.  He  turned;  and,  lo  !  it  was 
Ruth.    But  how  changed !   What  may  not  a  year  and  a 


494  STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVABD. 


half  at  a  fashionable  boarding-school  accomplish  in  the 
way  of  transforming  a  simple,  unaffected  child  into  an 
elegant  young  lady  ?  What  is  there  in  the  matter  of 
social  difficulties  that  can  daunt  a  bright  Yankee  girl, 
after  such  advantages  ? 

"  I  should  hardly  have  known  you,"  exclaimed  Sam, 
with  ill-concealed  .surprise  and  pleasure  at  the  bewil- 
dering vision ;  and  he  kissed  —  who  would  not  ?  —  two 
sweet  lips  that  were  put  up  to  him  with  the  utmost 
simplicity  and  confidence.  It  was  plain  that  there  was 
no  change  in  her  heart,  however  much  Ruth  might  have 
been  transformed  in  appearance :  Sam  had  been  too 
truly  her  hero  to  be  forgotten  in  a  year  and  a  half. 
But  how  much  did  that  kiss,  and  the  easy  indifference 
with  which  it  was  bestowed,  tell  her  of  the  change  that 
had  taken  place  in  this  whilom  lover  of  hers  !  He  had 
forgotten  her,  —  forgotten  his  kindness  as  he  used  to  be 
kind  !  She  flushed  with  shame  and  mortification  :  then 
her  face  paled,  and  her  lip  quivered,  as  her  disappoint- 
ment struck  chill  to  her  heart.  It  was  only  for  a 
second :  an  air  of  determined  gayety  came  at  her  sum- 
mons, and  she  took  on  a  dignity  and  reserve  that  Kate 
herself  could  hardly  have  surpassed.  It  was  plain 
that,  if  Sam  should  want  any  more  favors,  he  would 
have  to  begin  at  the  beginning  like  another,  and  work 
for  them. 

But  Ruth  had  taken  his  arm ;  and  they  were  chatting 
merrily  as  they  climbed  the  steps  to  the  bridge  above, 
and  approached  the  carriage.  Kate  darted  an  eloquent 
look  at  her  brother,  as  he  handed  in  the  guest,  and 
whispered,  "  A  '  tender  little  thing,'  I  should  think,"  as 
she  made  room  for  him  beside  her,  in  a  way  that  made 


CLASS  DAY. 


495 


it  difficult  enougL.  for  tlie  young  man  to  suppress  his 
mirth.  In  spite  of  herself,  she  contriyed  to  awe  the 
Toung  lady  not  a  little :  and  the  poor  child,  not  yet 
recovered  from  that  first  disappointment  and  chagrin, 
nestled  close  to  Mrs.  Wentworth.  in  whom  she  instinct- 
ively  felt  she  had  a  friend. 

The  momentary  embarrassment  passed  qiucldy  away : 
Kate's  kind  heart  soon  won  the  stranger's  shy  confi- 
dence :  and  was  she  not  now  where  for  months  she  had 
been  dreaming  she  should  be  ?  Sam  was  too  genuine  a 
son  of  Adam  to  stand  on  his  dignity  long  :  the  charming 
girl  so  near  him  was  too  attractive  not  to  rouse  all  his 
gallantry,  even  if  she  had  not  been  an  old  sweetheart. 
He  would  hardly  attempt  the  rule  of  grandfather  again 
with  her.  Before  the  short  drive  was  ended,  he  was  as 
devoted  and  splendid  "  as  the  most  exacting  young 
lady  could  desire. 

I  must  tear  myself  away,*'  he  said,  mournfully,  look- 
ing down  at  her  fresh  beauty,  and  don  my  harness ; 
but  I'll  be  back  as  soon  as  possible  :  and  please  remem- 
ber you  are  my  guest  to-day,  and  that  you  are  not  even 
to  smile  at  any  one  else.  Ah!  here  comes  Haskill ; 
and  the  young  doctor  came  up,  and  was  presented. 

]\Iother  and  Ruth  are  to  have  my  seats  in  the  church ; 
you  and  Kate  will  have  to  range  for  yourselves." 

Which,  through  the  courtesy  of  Villiers,  we  are 
very  capable  of  doing."  said  Haskill.  holding  u^d  two 
bits  of  white  pasteboard ;  that  is,  if  Miss  Kate  vnR 
accept  of  my  escort."' 

Sam  had  lifted  his  hat,  and  strode  off ;  and  the  rest 
uf  the  party  entered  the  house,  Kate  and  the  doctor  in 
the  rear. 


496 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  So  that  is  tliQ  causa  helli^^^  said  the  latter  to  Kate, 
with  a  nod  of  the  head  at  Ruth. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  never  was  more  surprised.  I  expected 
to  see  a  timid  little  girl.  I  could  pull  Sam's  ears  with 
a  will.    Sometimes  his  practical  jokes  are  too  bad." 

"  She  walks  a  queen,"  said  Haskill,  with  an  admiring 
looking  at  the  graceful  and  stylish  figure  in  front  of  him. 
"  Your  brother  certainly  is  a  man  of  taste,  if  his  head 
isn't  quite  '  level,'  as  we  Westerners  say.  The  idea  of 
that  young  lady  trimming  bonnets  and  washing  dishes ! 
She  is  better  than  the  other,"  he  said,  confidentially. 

"Yes,  I  think  she  is." 

It  was  plain  that  Class  Day  had  come.  Every  thing 
about  the  college  and  Cambridge  too  told  the  story. 
Horse-cars  were  fast  discharging  loads  of  gayly  dressed 
visitors  ;  and  carriages  replete  with  the  same  precious 
freight  rolled  rapidly  through  the  streets.  The  old 
church  in  the  square  was  ready  for  guests ;  and  ladies, 
alone  and  escorted  by  white-gloved  Seniors,  crowded 
in  through  the  side-door ;  and  the  galleries  were  soon 
packed.  This  was  the  only  opportunity  for  ladies  who 
were  not  fortunate  enough  to  have  reserved  seats  on 
the  floor,  to  gain  admission.  Groups  of  visitors  strolled 
across  the  grounds  in  quest  of  their  friends.  "  Gentle- 
men of  color,"  with  white  aprons  and  gloves,  took  pos- 
session of  the  rooms  where  the  spreads  were  to  be  laid, 
and  flitted  duskily  hither  and  thither ;  stacks  of  flowers 
arrived,  and  were  distributed;  Freshmen  looked  curi- 
ously at  the  novel  scenes ;  Sophomores  and  Juniors 
strolled  about  with  a  conscious  air ;  and  Seniors  in  full 
dress  appeared  on  every  hand. 


CLASS  DAY. 


497 


Agreeably  to  his  promise,  Sam  soon  returned  for  his 
mother  and  Ruth.  Kate  and  the  doctor  had  already- 
gone  on.  "  I  have  just  time  to  escort  you  to  your 
seats,"  Sam  said,  as  he  gave  an  arm  to  each ;  adding  as 
they  entered  the  now  cool  and  well-filled  church,  "  We 
form  in  ten  minutes  for  prayers.  We  sha'n't  detain 
you  long,"  he  continued,  as  they  settled  themselves  in 
the  comfortable  pews. 

"  Where  is  your  seat  to  be  ?  "  asked  Ruth,  with  a  little 
blush,  as  Sam  lingered  for  a  moment. 

"  Oh,  on  the  platform,"  said  Sam,  his  eyes  twinkling. 

"  I  am  not  so  stupid  as  that.  I  thought  from  your 
baton  that  you  might  be  distinguished  by  a  position 
that  would  make  you  visible  to  us  common  mortals," 
Ruth  replied,  coolly. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  young  man,  with  honest  pride, 
"  I  am  one  of  the  marshals ;  "  then,  with  a  merry  look, 
"  I  shall  be  on  the  very  edge  of  the  platform,  where  I 
can  keep  an  eye  on  you  all  the  time,  and  make  sure 
that  you  reserve  all  your  smiles  for  me."  Again  he 
departed,  and  hurried  over  to  Holworthy. 

The  class  were  in  ranks  on  the  hard  drive  in  front  of 
the  hall,  —  a  hundred  fine-looking  young  fellows  in  full 
dress.  Sam,  baton  in  hand,  went  down  the  line,  greet- 
ing this  friend  and  that  with  a  very  justifiable  pride. 
There  was  old  Villiers  with  his  robes;  and  he  reached 
out  his  hand,  and  gave  him  a  shake,  at  their  first  meet- 
ing for  the  day.  Presently  the  column  moved,  as 
Hawes  gave  the  word,  and  marched  on  to  the  chapel, 
where  the  class  chaplain  officiated ;  and  for  the  last 
time  they  attended  prayers. 

Meantime  the  three  lower  classes  formed  in  open 


498 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HAKVARD. 


ranks  on  the  avenue  leading  to  the  chapel,  —  each  class 
a  little  apart  from  the  others,  —  and  awaited  the  exit  of 
the  Seniors.  These,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  service, 
formed  once  more,  and,  led  by  the  band,  marched  down 
through  the  open  ranks.  The  hearty  cheers  rang  out 
from  Junior,  Sophomore,  and  Freshman,  in  turn;  and 
everybody  wished  them  God  speed.  Yes,  even  the 
"poco,"  who  had  cheated  them  as  much  as  was  in  his 
ability,  stood  a  little  apart,  his  round  rosy  face  suffused 
with  a  smile,  swinging  his  hat,  and  shouting  his  good- 
will. 

This  year  the  "  Philosopher  "  had  invited  the  Seniors 
to  breakfast ;  and  he  received  them  cordially,  and  enter- 
tained them  most  hospitably.  After  the  repast,  a  half- 
hour  was  devoted  to  social  pleasures;  and  then  once  more 
the  procession  was  formed,  and  moved  towards  the  church, 
where  friends  have  been  all  this  time  awaiting  them. 

There  a  crowd  of  students,  who  presently  were  to 
have  a  rush  and  a  tussle  with  the  policemen,  and  who 
had  been  besieging  the  door  for  an  hour  or  more,  opened 
ranks  to  let  the  column  pass  in ;  and  amidst  the  mingled 
cheers  of  the  crowd,  and  the  inspiriting  music  of  the 
band,  the  class  marched  proudly  up  the  aisle,  to  the 
seats  on  the  platform.  While  the  Seniors  were  seating 
themselves  within,  the  students  and  policemen  were 
having  a  desperate  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the 
doorway  without.  But  how  could  three  men  stand  up 
before  three  hundred  ?  Down  they  went ;  and  the 
eager  thi'ong  was  propelled  by  its  own  momentum 
through  the  porch,  and  up  the  aisle,  quite  to  the  foot 
of  the  platform.  Then,  as  stillness  reigned  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  even  the  fluttering  of  fans  was  hushed  in  the 


CLASS  DAY. 


499 


crowded  churcli,  while  the  reverend  Doctor  offered 
prayer,  an  opportunity  was  offered  to  look  around  once 
from  the  Seniors'  seats. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  platform  were  the  hundred 
Seniors,  who  met  together,  as  the  experience  of  the  past 
had  shown,  for  the  last  time  ;  opposite  sat  the  gentle- 
men of  the  Faculty,  and  the  distinguished  guests  of  the 
clay ;  while  between  these  two  bodies  were  the  Presi- 
dent, the  Doctor,  and  the  class  officers,  —  the  marshals, 
orator,  poet,  odist,  and  chaplain.  At  the  opposite  end 
of  the  church,  in  the  organ-loft,  was  the  band,  dis- 
coursing music  after  the  termination  of  the  prayer. 
The  galleries  on  either  ^ide  were  packed  with  an  audi- 
ence that  gave  them  the  appearance  of  two  beds  of 
roses ;  while  every  Senior  recognized  his  best  friends 
among  the  gayly  dressed  throng  that  occupied  every 
available  inch  of  room  on  the  floor.  It  was  an  assembly 
of  youth  and  beauty  such  as  could  be  gathered  together 
only  on  an  occasion  like  this.  As  Villiers,  chosen  by 
his  classmates  to  speak  to  them  and  for  them,  came 
forward,  it  seemed  that,  if  an}^  thing  were  capable  of 
inspiring  him  to  eloquence,  it  would  be  this  occasion. 
The  poem,  that  happy  compound  of  humor  and  pathos, 
followed  the  oration  ;  and  then  came  the  ode,  sung  by 
the  class.  This  closed  the  exercises ;  and  the  throng 
streamed  out  of  the  church,  glad  to  escape  from  the 
suffocating  jam.  Yilliers  turned,  as  a  hand  was  laid  on 
his  arm,  and  saw  the  Doctor  standing  behind,  with 
beaming  face. 

"  I  wish  to  tell  you  how  much  I  am  pleased  with 
your  oration,"'  he  said,  in  liis  kindest  tone.  "  It  would 
be  an  honor  to  any  man's  heart  or  head ; "  and  he  truly 
meant  what  he  said. 


500  STTJDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 

As  the  orator  of  the  day,  Villiers  had  the  honor  of 
walking  down  the  aisle  and  across  the  street  arm  in  arm 
with  the  President ;  and  that  gentleman  too  was  pleased 
to  bestow  his  sincerest  praise  on  what  the  student  had 
said. 

Sam  lost  no  time  in  seeking  out  his  mother  and  Ruth ; 
and,  with  one  on  each  arm,  sauntered  slowly  along,  with 
hundreds  of  others,  towards  Hoi  worthy  and  the  spreads. 
It  was  a  proud  and  happy  moment  for  every  Senior ; 
the  very  highest  pinnacle  of  college  glory;  and  Sam, 
for  he  was  quite  overflowing  with  happiness,  ran  on 
with  a  string  of  talk  vastly  entertaining  to  Ruth  at 
least ;  and  presently  they  arrived  at  the  rooms  in  the 
old  hall,  where  they  found  Kate  and  Haskill  already  in 
possession,  the  guests  fast  arriving,  and  the  spread  in 
readiness.  A  spread  given  by  so  many  and  so  dis- 
tinguished Seniors  as  this  one  was  (for  among  its  hosts 
were  the  orator,  two  of  the  marshals,  a  member  of  the 
Class  Day  committee,  and  the  odist)  could  not  but  be  a 
very  brilliant  and  fashionable  affair ;  and,  for  the  next 
two  hours,  there  was  a  jam  of  elegant  ladies  and  gentle- 
men thronging  this  particular  entry  and  these  particu- 
lar rooms  :  yes,  a  veritable  jam,  that  sadly  disordered 
the  attire  of  the  ladies,  and  made  them  flushed  and 
breathless.  Little  rivulets  of  melted  cream  trickled 
down  on  to  their  elegant  drapery ;  strawberries  and  bits 
of  salad  were  trodden  into  the  fabric  of  their  robes. 
It  was  almost  impossible  to  breathe  sometimes,  and  fre- 
quently quite  impossible  to  stir  ;  but  the  young  people 
seemed  to  enjoy  it,  and  will  probably,  as  long  as  these 
occasions  bring  them  pleasantly  together,  and  afford  an 
opportunity  for  feasting  and  flirting,  and  the  display  of 
elegant  toilets. 


CLASS  DAY. 


501 


"  They  like  tlie  eating  part  too,"  said  Haskill  to  Kate. 
She  liad  received  a  score  of  inAdtations,  and  under  the 
doctor's  protecting  escort  liad  visited  many  spreads, 
and  paid  her  compliments  to  the  hosts,  and  was  now 
ensconced  in  the  cool,  comfortable  y"inclow-seat  in  her 
brother's  room.  Do  you  see  that  delicate  creature  in 
pink?''  Haskill  asked,  pointing  out  of  the  window. 
"  She  has  been  to  six  spreads  to  my  certain  knowledge, 
and  has  had  a  generous  supply  of  salad,  strawberries 
and  cream,  and  ices,  at  each  occasion:  and  is  evidently 
not  vet  disposed  to  cry,  '  Hold !  enough ! '  See  her 
crowd  up  the  steps." 

"  Xonsense  !  "  said  Kate,  laughing  merrily.  "  You 
must  be  mistaken." 

''Xot  a  bit,'' returned  the  doctor,  stoutly.  "I  de- 
clare,'" he  continued,  ''it  is  a  good  thing  to  see  Yilliers 
dispense  his  hospitality :  he  is  as  polite  as  some  of  those 
old  fellows  you  read  about  in  books,  isn't  he  ? "' 

"  I  must  agree  with  you  this  once,"  Kate  replied, 
with  a  smile.  She  had  seen  little  of  her  lover  thus  far 
during  the  day;  but  she  felt  that  the  splendidly  noble 
part  he  had  enacted  was  all  hers,  and  she  could  wait 
with  perfect  content  for  the  attentions  which  in  good 
time  were  sure  also  to  be  hers. 

Kuth  had  been  pleased  to  keep  very  near  to  Mrs. 
Wentworth ;  and  Sam  had  been  both  attentive  and  vigi- 
lant, and  turned  off  any  number  of  gentlemen  who  had 
been  eager  to  carry  her  away.  The  young  lady  was 
content  and  happy,  —  as  happy  as  she  had  clream.ed  she 
might  be.  All  Kate's  friends  had  been  most  kind  to 
her ;  and  she  had  found  time  to  say  a  great  deal  to  Mrs. 
Wentworth. 


502 


STUDENT -LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"  I  was  terribly  afraid  of  Mr.  Villiers  at  first.  I  had 
a  feeling  that  he  disliked  or  distrusted  me." 

"  I  am  sure  it  must  have  been  quite  groundless,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed  !  he  has  been  more  than  kind ;.  but 
he  has  a  way  of  looking  tlirough  one,  that  is  very 
uncomfortable.    Do  you  not  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have  noticed  it ;  but  he  does  not  m^an  to 
cause  distress." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed !  I  don't  mind  it  at  all  now.  Oh,  I 
owe  every  thing  to  him,  more  than  I  shall  ever  be  able 
to  repay.  I  might  have  been  with  aunty  still ;  and  I 
was  so  very,  very  wretched.  There  was  over  six  thou- 
sand dollars  of  my  interest-money  that  had  accumu- 
lated in  her  hands ;  and  Mr.  Yilliers  made  her  produce 
every  dollar,  and  told  the  judge  that  he  thought  my 
services  had  more  than  recompensed  her  for  any  trouble 
or  expense  she  had  been  at  on  my  account ;  and  the 
judge  said  he  thought  so  too.  It  was  wicked,  I  know, 
but  I  couldn't  help  hating  her ;  and  I  was  delighted  to 
see  her  frightened,  as  she  most  thoroughly  was." 

"  She  must  have  been  a  very  unamiable  person." 

"  Mr.  Villiers  has  been  to  the  school  to  see  me  several 
times,  to  see  how  I  was  coming  on ;  and  that  I  have 
had  the  best  possible  care  and  instruction  is  owing  to 
his  good  offices,  I  am  sure." 

Then  Lyman  came  to  claim  Kate  for  a  waltz  in  Har- 
vard Hall.  "I  have  been  feeding  the  hungry  long 
enough,  and  am  going  to  dispense  with  my  hospitality 
for  the  present.  It  will  be  less  crowded  than  later  in 
the  afternoon ; "  and  the  twain  disappeared  down  the 
stairs. 


CLASS  DAY. 


503 


By  this  time  the  music  of  the  band  playing  for  the 
dancers  on  the  green  below  came  up  strong  and  clear; 
and  few  remained  in  the  rooms  save  the  especial  friends 
of  the  Seniors.  Sam  came  up  to  the  group  around  his 
mother,  looking  hot  and  tired. 

"  I  believe  Class  Day  is  hard  work :  don't  you  find  it 
so,  Will?" 

Yes  ;  it  is  a  consolation  that  it  comes  only  once," 
said  Adams  :  "it  has  been  a  task,  though  a  pleasant  one, 
these  last  two  hours." 

"  I  knew  he  would  be  quite  worn  out  if  he  remained 
there  any  longer  entertaining  those  stupid  people :  so  I 
fairly  rescued  him  from  his  friends,  and  brought  him  in 
here  to  enjoy  a  little  rest  with  Mrs.  Wentworth,"  said 
Mary  Eldredge. 

"  You  hayen't  tasted  a  morsel  of  any  thing  yourscK," 
said  Ruth,  looking  shyly  up  at  Sam. 

"  I  believe  I  haven't,  though  I  had  forgotten  it; "  and 
the  young  man  looked  ruefully  at  the  melted  cream,  and 
the  unsavory  fragments  of  the  feast. 

"  I  think  there  must  be  something  more  tempting  in 
that  apartment,"  said  Ruth,  giving  a  nod  at  the  room 
where  the  caterers  had  established  their  headquarters. 
"  I  am  interested  to  know,"'  continued  the  girl,  with  an 
honest  blush,  "  because  I  am  hungry  myself.  I  thought 
you  might  prefer  even  my  poor  company  to  feasting 
alone,  and  have  waited  for  you." 

"  That  is  just  splendid ! "  exclaimed  Sam,  his  face 
flushing  with  pleasure.  A  requisition  on  the  ebony 
gentlemen  was  forthwith  honored  by  an  abundance  of 
fresh  viands ;  and  the  two  seated  themselves  in  the 
recess  of  the  eastern  window  for  a  cosey  lunch. 


504 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


"  Hunger  is  the  best  sauce ;  but  I  have  somethiDg 
better  for  this  feast,"  said  Sam,  presently. 
"Indeed!  what  is  that?" 

"  Somebody  that  I  haven't  seen  for  a  year  and  a 
half,"  he  said,  with  an  admiring  glance  at  the  lovely  face 
so  near  him. 

She  had  not  lost  that  trait  of  changing  expression 
with  every  varying  feeling,  which  of  old  used  to  be  her 
chiefest  charm ;  and,  as  Sam  looked  at  her,  her  confusion 
was  complete. 

"  You  have  not  improved  in  the  least,"  she  said, 
coolly,  after  a  moment. 

"  That  certainly  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  every  one 
I  know,"  Sam  replied,  with  a  bow. 

Ruth  flushed  with  pleasure  and  pride  at  this :  had 
she  not  worked  with  all  the  energy  in  her  power,  that 
this  compliment  might  be  deserved  ? 

"  What  is  his  majesty  perplexing  himself  about 
now?  "  asked  Ruth,  as  the  ice-cream  disappeared  before 
Sam's  silent  but  determined  attack,  while  a  doubtful 
expression  settled  over  his  face. 

"I  was  wondering  what  in  the  deuce  I  have  been 
thinking  of,  that  two  people  have  not  met  for  a  year 
and  a  half,"  he  said,  honestly. 

"  I  have  wondered  why  many  times,"  Ruth  replied, 
in  a  soft  voice. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  first  time  we  had  tea  together 
in  your  aunt's  house  ?  It  was  different  from  our  feast 
to-day;  but  I  believe  I  never  enjoyed  a  pleasanter 
hour,"  said  Sam. 

"  Can  I  ever  forget  it  ?  "  said  Ruth,  tenderly, "  or  how 
you  wrapped  me  in  your  own  great-coat,  and  scolded  me 


CLASS  DAY. 


505 


all  the  way  home,  getting  quite  drenched  yourself  all 
the  tune  ?  " 

If  it  was  necessary,  as  it  seemed  to  be  in  the  morning, 
for  Sam  to  begin  and  win  Ruth's  favor  over  again,  he 
had  done  his  work  so  well  the  first  time,  that  it  would 
be  an  easy  matter  now.  He  was  very  near  her :  their 
faces  were  very  close  together  as  they  sat  in  the  win- 
dow's recess,  talking  over  those  bygone  days  ;  they  were 
both  well  pleased.  It  seemed  for  the  moment  as  though 
an  engagement  might  have  to  be  chronicled  as  one  of 
the  results  of  Class  Day ;  but  the  Fates  —  naughty  trio 
—  had  decreed  otherwise.  Who  was  that  looking 
through  the  doorway  at  the  happy  pair  as  they  sat 
billing  and  cooing,  half  hidden  by  the  drapery  of  the 
window?  Had  this  woman  come  with  her  impassive, 
cold,  fascinating  beauty,  all  the  way  across  the  ocean,  to 
separate  these  two  now  so  nearly  drawn  together  ?  Had 
she  come  to  unsay  the  word  she  had  spoken  two  years 
ago  ?  At  least  she  was  there  !  There  was  a  rustle  of 
drapery  on  the  threshold ;  Sam's  eyes  glanced  towards 
the  door ;  the  color  faded  out  of  his  face ;  he  sprang 
forward  with  an  exclamation.  Yes,  it  was  she  !  it  was 
Rose  Thorne  !  and  as  Sam  stood  before  her,  looking 
into  those  calm,  wondrous  eyes,  and  listening  to  that 
familiar  and  well-loved  voice,  the  two  years  that  had 
gone  by  were  like  forgotten  dreams,  and  he  was  as 
much  her  slave  (and  he  knew  it  too)  as  he  had  ever 
been  in  his  most  devoted  moment.  Ah,  yes;  freedom 
is  a  grand  thing,  a  glorious  heritage ;  but  it  is  not  for 
you,  my  bonny  Senior,  at  least  not  as  yet.  And  Ruth, 
who  sat  there  quite  forgotten  amid  the  confusion  and 
surprise  attendant  upon  the  arrival  of  this  new  and 


506 


STUDENT-LIFIJ  AT  HARVARD. 


unexpected  guest,  —  did  not  the  poor  child  take  it  all 
in  at  a  glance?  Could  she  fail  to  recognize  the 
destroyer  of  her  happiness,  so  nearly  made  perfect,  in 
that  beautiful,  emotionless  face  ?  "  Discipline,  disci- 
pline !  education  and  discipline :  that  is  the  true  end  of 
life : "  it  almost  seemed  as  though  our  worthy  friend 
Villiers  uttered  the  words,  as  he  comprehended  it  all ; 
as  he  saw  the  flush  on  Sam's  face,  and  the  glitter  in  his 
eye,  which  he  had  been  wont  to  note  there  of  old ;  and 
the  desperate  look  about  the  little  white  mouth  half 
hidden  in  the  recess  of  the  window.  "  It  is  not  to  be 
happy ;  it  is  not  to  have  one's  heart's  desire ;  it  is  not 
to  be  successful  in  our  plans,  or  to  prosper  in  our 
undertakings  :  it  is  to  be  disciplined  after  God's  own 
will  into  the  perfections  of  manhood  and  wotuanhood,  — 
that  is  the  true  end  and  object  of  life."  The  words 
seemed  almost  to  ring  in  the  air.  It  might  well  be 
asked  how  a  little  o£  his  theory  would  fit  his  own  broad 
shoulders.  He  had  certainly  never  had  it  to  wear  as 
yet. 

Lyman,  with  Kate  on  his  arm,  had  at  length  elbowed 
his  way  up  the  steps  into  Harvard  Hall,  where  the 
"  round "  dances  were  in  order.  "  It  will  not  be  so 
crowded  if  we  go  in  for  the  first,"  he  had  said. 

"I  do  not  see  how  it  could  well  be  much  more 
crowded,"  was  Kate's  thought  as  they  revolved  quickly, 
keeping  thne  with  the  delicious  waltz-music.  Dancing 
in  this  close,  crowded  hall  on  the  hot  June  afternoon, 
when  the  air  soon  became  filled  with  a  thick,  fine  dust, 
while  the  slightest  exertion  caused  a  profuse  perspi 
ration,  and  where   no   cooling  breeze,  no  refreshing 


CLASS  DAY. 


507 


draught  of  air  could  come,  used  to  be  a  Class-Day  cus- 
tom. Delicate  girls  who  would  not  have  thought  they 
could  walk  half  a  mile  used  to  dance  there  by  the 
hour,  the  whirling  waltz,  the  quick-moving  galop,  — 
while  outside  under  the  broad-spreading  elms,  beneath 
the  cool  shade  and  on  the  firm  green  turf,  with  comfort, 
and  opportunity  for  pleasant  chatting,  and  room  in 
abundance,  the  band  would  vainly  summon  the  dancers 
to  what  would  seem  a  most  attractive  pastime.  The 
many  who  came  to  see  the  dancing  on  the  green,  and 
the  hundreds  who  could  not  gain  admission  to  the  hall, 
would  promenade  around  the  enclosure.  The  windows . 
above  were  always  filled  with  spectators,  but  the  dan- 
cers were  not  there. 

Excuse  me,  but  please  take  me  out,"  said  Kate, 
after  the  first  round ;  and  she  leaned  heavily  on  Lyman's 
arm,  till  after  a  struggle  they  gained  the  open  air  once 
more,  and  wended  their  way  back  to  Holworthy,  where 
greatly  to  her  surprise  and  joy  she  found  her  dear 
friend  Rose. 

The  hours  passed  slowly  but  steadily  away  with  mu- 
sic and  dancing,  and  chatting  and  flirting,  and  all  the 
gayeties  of  Class  Day.  The  throng  grew  denser,  as  the 
afternoon  waned ;  the  square  became  quite  choked  with 
vehicles ;  for  hundreds  came  to  see  the  exercises  at  the 
tree,  who  cared  for  nothing  else. 

The  tree,  a  noble  elm,  around  which  the  class  was  to 
meet  at  eventide,  and  sing  Auld  Lang  Syne,"  stands 
almost  in  the  centre  of  a  little  quadrangle  formed  by 
the  rear  of  Ilollis,  Harvard  Llall,  a  side  of  Holden 
Chapel,  and  Harvard  Square ;  the  intervening  space 
being  rather  more  than  a  hundred  feet  wide,  and  a 


508 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


hundred  and  fifty  feet  long.  A  stout  rope  had  been 
stretched  around  the  tree,  enclosing  a  circle  of  perhaps 
a  hundred  feet  diameter.  Late  in  the  afternoon  oui 
old  friend  the  janitor  brought  a  heap  of  little  bunches 
of  flowers,  which  he  proceeded  to  fasten  securely  to  the 
tree  eight  or  nine  feet  from  the  ground,  girdling  its 
old  trunk  with  a  beautiful  garland.  As  the  last  bunch 
in  the  wreath  was  secured,  he  removed  his  ladder,  and 
smiled  complacently  on  his  work.  I  believe  that  will 
puzzle  them,"  he  thought,  as  he  walked  quietly  away. 
How  many  years  he  had  performed  this  service,  he 
alone  knew;  but  it  came  around  once  for  every  class, 
and  was  his  last  duty  for  them,  and  his  pleasantest. 

Before  these  preparations  were  fully  completed,  the 
space  between  the  rope  and  the  buildings,  by  no  means 
a  large  one,  had  begun  to  fill  up ;  and  it  was  not  long- 
before  every  inch  of  standing-room  was  taken.  The 
day  had  been  hot ;  and  the  sun,  though  low  in  the  sky, 
poured  its  burning  rays  full  upon  the  expectant  com- 
pany, who  waited  with  the  utmost  patience,  and  endured 
the  discomfort  of  the  situation  without  a  murmur. 
Every  one  of  the  hundred  windows  that  commanded  a 
view  of  the  tree  was  set  Avith  bright  faces ;  the  dance 
and  the  promenade  w^ere  deserted ;  and  the  attention  of 
every  one  was  centred  on  the  most  interesting  feature 
of  the  day  soon  to  occur. 

For  the  last  time  the  Seniors  had  formed  in  front  of 
Holworthy ;  but  how  different  was  the  appearance  they 
presented  from  that  gathering  in  the  morning,  when 
each  man  had  been  in  faultless  attire !  All  the  oldest 
and  most  shocking  hats  had  been  reserved  for  this  occa- 
sion, and  were  now  donned;  while  on  their  tops  or 


CLASS  DAY. 


509 


fronts,  pasted  in  large  white  figures,  appeared  the  year 
of  the  class.  Old  coats,  which  might  still  be  decent, 
had  been  substituted  for  the  swallow-tails ;  and  the 
class,  before  so  gentlemanly  in  appearance,  stood  trans- 
formed into  a  rabble  of  rowdyish  and  seedj'-looking 
characters. 

In  this  guise,  with  the  band  at  their  head,  they 
visited  in  turn  each  of  the  buildings,  and  with  three  or 
nine  cheers  passed  on.  They  then  planted  the  class 
ivy  at  Gore  Hall.  The  round  face  and  rounder  figure 
of  the  librarian  greeted  them  at  its  wide-open  portal, 
and  the  old  library  echoed  with  their  ringing  salute  and 
the  tramp  of  their  feet ;  thence  they  marched  on  to  the 
tree,  the  band  playing  the  class  song. 

Within  the  enclosure,  about  the  tree,  gathered  in  a 
group  by  themselves,  stood  the  Freshmen, —  Freshmen 
no  more  after  this  day,  but  now  about  to  be  "roughed  " 
for  the  last  time  by  the  Sophs.  They  were  making 
their  preparations  for  the  struggle  that  was  presently 
to  come,  quietly,  but  with  a  determination  that  spoke 
for  itself.  They  had  resolved  that  there  should  be  no 
flinching,  and  that  their  ring  should  not  be  broken :  and 
they  were  grasping  one  another's  hands  with  a  clutch 
that  became  more  nervous  as  the  dread  moment  drew 
near. 

In  a  secona  part  of  the  circle  stood  the  Sophomores, 
assembled  in  full  force.  It  was  their  business  to  break 
the  ring  which  the  Freshmen  would  presently  form,  as 
speedilj'  and  in  as  many  places  as  possible ;  to  drown 
the  cheers  of  the  Freshmen  with  their  own  lusty  yells, 
and  to  improve  to  the  utmost  this  final  opportunity  of 
making  it  uiicomfortable  for  the  young  fellows.  Mean- 


510 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


time  the  Juniors,  collected  in  a  group,  were  recruit- 
ing tlieir  ranks  in  a  way  that  excited  the  amusement 
of  the  spectators.  The  Juniors  as  a  general  thing  do 
not  care  to  turn  out  for  this  tree  business,  many  pre- 
ferring to  look  on  from  some  comfortable  position,  with 
the  ladies,  to  whom  they  can  explain  the  proceedings. 
They  have  been  there  as  Freshmen,  to  stand  up  for  their 
rights  ;  as  Sophomores,  to  bully  their  inferiorb",  they 
must  perforce  go  when  they  shall  be  Seniors :  what 
\vonder  that  they  like  to  beg  off  this  once  ?  Tnere  was 
c|uite  a  little  group  of  them,  however,  within  the  circle ; 
and  these  seemed  determined  to  make  it  uncomfortable 
for  the  shirkers,  who  were  screening  themselves  behind 
the  ladies  at  the  windows,  now  and  then  peering  out  at 
their  classmates  below.  As  they  caught  sight  of  such 
a  one,  it  was,  "  One,  two,  three,"  and  a  shout  of 
"  Dixon  I  "  from  the  entire  body,  which  performance 
they  repeated  until  Dixon  came  down  and  joined 
them ;  after  which  another  shirker  was  singled  out  and 
summoned  in  the  same  noisy  manner. 

The  music  of  the  band  had  been  heard  for  some 
time,  and  the  distant  "  Rah !  rah  !  rah !  "  of  the  Seniors, 
as  hall  after  hall  was  saluted ;  the  sounds  came  nearer, 
and  gi'ew  plainer ;  the  tramp  of  feet  became  audible ; 
and  amid  the  cheers  of  the  undergraduates,  the  plaudits 
of  the  spectators,  and  many  exclamations  of  wonder 
and  delight  at  their  remarkable  appearance,  the  Seniors 
marched  rapidly  into  the  circle,  and  took  their  stand 
in  the  remaining  vacant  space.  The  marshal  waved 
his  baton,  and  all  was  still;  then  the  hundred  students 
sang  their  class  song,  after  which  the  cheering  began. 
They  cheered  first  their  own  and  the   three  lower 


CLASS  DAY. 


611 


classes,  each  class  in  turn  joining  in  and  swelling  the 
salute,  till  it  came  to  the  Freshmen,  when  there  was 
raised  a  tremendous  liowl  by  the  Sophomores.  There 
was  something  indescribably  stirring  about  these  class 
.salutes.  Then  they  cheered  eyerybodj, — the  Presi- 
dent and  the  goodies,  the  Faculty  and  the  pocos,  the 
proctors  and  the  professors,  while  the  ladies  came  in  for 
three  times  three,  and  then  as  many  more  ;  after  which 
they  cheered  the  classes  again,  and  once  more  there 
was  silence. 

Again  the  marshal  raised  his  baton ;  and  at  the  sig- 
nal the  dense  groups  of  students  who  had  thus  far 
stood  separate  in  the  four  parts  of  the  enclosure  were 
galyanized  into  sudden  actiyity ;  and  almost  in  a  second 
of  time  four  complete  rings,  each  of  a  hundred  men, 
had  formed  around  the  old  elm.  It  was  indeed  a  pretty 
moyement,  and  the  spectators  murmured  their  admira- 
tion. The  rings  thus  formed  stood  motionless,  the 
Seniors  nearest  the  tree ;  the  Juniors,  Sophomores,  and 
Freshmen,  in  due  order. 

"  After  the  Seniors  haye  sung  '  Auld  Lang  Syne,'  " 
said  Hawes,  I  will  waye  my  hand,  and  the  classes  will 
moye  around  the  tree,  the  Seniors  and  Sophomores  to 
the  right,  the  Juniors  and  Freshmen  to  the  left.  When 
I  hold  up  my  baton,  the  running  will  cease.'' 

He  nodded  to  the  chorister,  who  started  the  song. 

The  Freshmen  who  formed  the  outside  ring  stood 
neryously  waiting  for  the  running  to  begin,  breathing 
hard,  and  ^yith  hand  grasping  hand.  The  Sophomores 
were  also  expectant :  but  their  attitude  and  appearance 
boded  ill  to  the  Freshmen.  It  was  a  moment  of  intense 
interest. 


512 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


Meantime  the  Seniors,  hand  in  hand,  were  singing 
their  farewell  song ;  swinging  their  arms  to  the  rhythm 
of  the  music,  slowly  at  first,  they  increased  the  move- 
ment till  it  could  be  no  faster,  when  Hawes  gave  the 
long-looked-for  signal,  and  the  running  around  the  tree 
began. 

It  lasted  for  a  few  seconds  only :  the  marshal  held  up 
his  baton  almost  immediately ;  but  the  action  which  in 
the  outside  rings  had  degenerated  into  a  tussle  between 
the  two  lower  classes  was  kept  up  longer  there.  The 
Freshman  line  was  soon  broken  in  a  score  of  places, 
some  hard  knocks  were  given  and  taken,  and  more  than 
one  pair  rolled  in  the  dust  in  a  close  embrace  ;  but  it  was 
all  without  malice,  and  forgotten  the  next  day. 

The  Seniors,  as  soon  as  Tom  held  up  his  baton,  one 
and  all  made  a  rush  for  the  garlands  of  flowers  about 
the  tree ;  and  the  attention  of  all  was  soon  fixed  on  this 
surging  mass,  leaping,  climbing,  jumping,  and  vainly 
trying  to  reach  the  wreath. 

"  They  are  too  far  from  the  ground ;  ,no  one  can  reach 
them  at  that  height !  "  exclaimed  Ruth  ;  and  for  a  time 
it  appeared  as  though  the  garland  must  remain  unbro- 
ken. If  one  climbed  on  to  the  shoulders  of  a  classmate, 
the  moment  he  approached  the  tree,  and  stretched  forth 
his  hand  to  pluck  the  flowers  almost  within  his  grasp, 
an  unfriendly  hand  was  sure  to  pull  him  prone  to  the 
ground. 

"  There  goes  Sam  with  Longstreet  astride  his  shoul- 
ders !  "  cried  Kate :  "  they  will  be  more  successful ;  "  and 
all  watched  the  two  Seniors  working  their  way  through 
the  throng  towards  the  tree.  Sam  elbowed  his  way 
slowly  but  with  unflagging  perseverance ;  and  Longstreet 


CLASS  DAY. 


513 


successfully  beat  off  all  assailants,  striking  meruilesslT 
right  and  left,  and  maintained  liis  position  in  spite  of  all 
attempts  to  dislodge  him.  The  clapping  of  a  thousand 
hands  resounded,  as  the  little  felloe  plticked  the  first 
bonquet  from  the  wreath,  and.  timiing  deliberately 
toward  the  "window  from  which  our  friends  were  look- 
ing down,  kissed  his  hand  to  the  ladies.  Then  he 
scattered  the  nijso^'tvs  amono-  the  sttidents  below  him. 
Villiers  with  Adams  on  his  shoulders  liad  attacked  the 
wreath  on  the  opposite  side  ;  others  had  climbed  to  it  on 
the  shoulders  of  classmates ;  and  in  a  trice  the  tree  was 
stripped  bare,  and  every  man  had  some  of  the  flowers. 

But  all  was  not  uver.  thotigh  the  end  was  near.  For 
a  moment  there  was  quiet ;  and  then  came  the  parting 
scene,  when  these  clas.-mates  of  fotir  years  rushed  into 
one  another's  embraces.  These  two  had  pulled  many  a 
mile  together  in  the  same  boat  ;  these  two  had  for  four 
years  sat  side  by  -ide  at  recitatiun.  lecture,  and  exami- 
nation :  these,  kindred  pursuits  and  congenial  tasks 
have  led  along  the  same  pleasant  paths  ;  the  bonds  of 
the  same  society  have  brotight  these  \ery  close  together. 
The  petty  jealoii-ies  of  clique  were  forgotten,  and  for 
once  the  warm  fteling  of  brotherhood  melted  down  the 
reserA'e  of  the  coldest ;  and  the  blows  of  the  old  hats, 
and  the  sometimes  rough  embraces,  were  often  but  the 
cloakings  of  warm  emotions  and  tender  feelings.  The 
sun  set  as  the  boisterous  demonstrations  were  ended: 
and  the  crowd  dispersed,  for  the  crowning  event  of  the 
day  was  ended. 

Thus  far  it  had  been  hard  work  for  our  Seniors,  a 
day  no  one  of  them  would  care  to  go  through  with 
again ;  but  a  cosey  tea  in  the  gray  twilight,  at  which  all 


514 


STUDENT-LITE  AT  HARVAED. 


the  friends  were  present,  was  a  delightful  and  restful 
re-union.  Villiers  had  had  many  demands  upon  his 
time ;  but  his  duties  were  now  over,  and  he  was  ready 
to  relieve  Haskill  of  his  charge.  Kate  turned  to  him 
with  a  look  that  made  him  forget  that  he  was  tired,  as 
she  was  wont  in  after-days,  when  her  lord  was  weary 
with  toil,  to  charm  him  into  fresh  life  with  a  touch  or  a 
caress. 

In  truth,  it  had  been  hardly  more  than  a  look  that 
had  pledged  these  two  to  walk  the  journey  of  life 
together.  He  had  put  out  his  hand,  she  had  put  hers 
in  it ;  and  thereafter  each  belonged  to  the  other.  It 
would  have  needed  an  unusually  close  observer  to  dis- 
cover that  they  were  more  than  very  good  friends,  even 
in  after-years.  Villiers  never  abated  towards  his  wife 
one  whit  of  the  grave,  considerate  courtesy  that  had 
marked  his  days  of  courtship. 

Ruth,  after  her  cruel  awakening  from  that  blissful 
afternoon  dream,  had  shown  a  very  proper  spirit  indeed. 
She  had  flirted  desperately  with  Dr.  Haskill,  whom  she 
declared  to  be  "perfectly  splendid;"  had  danced  with 
him  in  Harvard  Hall,  not  minding  the  heat  or  the 
dust;  had  quite  ignored  "-Mr,  Wentworth," — and  had 
been  very  unhappy.  She  sat  nestled  close  to  Mrs. 
Wentworth  in  the  deepening  twilight,  a  hand  in  one 
of  hers,  so  quiet.  If  any  one  could  have  seen  her 
heart,  if  Sam  could  have  seen  it  —  but  he  was  devoting 
himself  to  Rose. 

"  Stay  for  the  evening,  and  let  me  drive  you  home," 
he  pleaded,  in  a  whisper ;  and  as  gracefully,  pleasantly, 
charmingly  as  ever,  Rose  replied,  "  Yes,  I  will  stay." 


CLASS  DAY. 


515 


The  illuminations  were  not  yet  quite  ready;  the 
music  for  the  promenaders  had  not  arrived ;  it  was  not 
time  yet  for  the  President's  reception ;  and  all  our 
friends  gathered  in  the  twilight  were  inclined  to  be 
yery  quiet.  Yes,  they  were  all  together  here,  —  Sam 
and  his  mother  and  sister,  Yilliers  and  Huntington  and 
Cartier,  Rose  and  Ruth,  Miss  Eldredge  and  Adams, 
Lyman  and  Haskill.  Happy,  if  quiet,  one  would  say. 
Ah !  there  is  envy,  jealousy,  despair,  and  passion,  as 
well  as  peace,  rest,  and  content,  in  some  of  these 
hearts. 

As  the  class  had  assembled  for  the  last  time  to-day, 
so  have  those  whom  the  Fates  have  brought  together  at 
this  hour  met  for  the  last  time  in  the  pages  of  this 
little  story. 

The  jam  at  the  President's  reception  was  immense, 
an  hour  later.  "  What  any  one  goes  there  for.  Miss 
Leigh,  when  it  is  so  much  pleasanter  outside,  is  more 
than  I  could  ever  understand,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he 
and  Ruth  with  difficulty  escaped  from  the  crowd  to  the 
soft  lawn. 

"  For  the  entertainment,  I  should  say,"  replied  Ruth, 
sarcastically. 

"Yes,  that's  good:  I  never  thought  of  that;"  and 
they  strolled  slowly  down  to  the  enclosed  space,  where 
the  band  was  discoursing  soft  music,  interspersed  with 
the  songs  of  the  Glee  Club.  The  lights  on  the  trees 
twinkled  sleepily,  and  the  throng  of  promenaders  glided 
noiselessly  along,  half  visible  in  the  gloom.  The  doctor 
was  more  than  charmed  with  his  companion.  "  If  I 
could  only  have  a  httle  of  Went  worth's  luck,"  he 


616 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVAKD. 


thought,  "llow  grateful  I  should  be!"  and  he  made 
himself  agreeable  to  the  best  of  his  powers,  telling  her 
now  about  some  wonderful  surgical  operation  at  which 
he  had  assisted,  now  about  his  home  in  the  West,  and 
the  "perfect  trump  "  of  an  old  man  who  was  waiting  for 
liim  there,  and  the  glorious  field  for  work  and  useful- 
ness spread  out  before  him.  He  was  really  eloquent. 
Suddenly  Ruth  remarked,  — 

"  You  know  all  about  Sam's  attachment  for  Rose 
Thome,  doctor.  Tell  me  about  it :  is  it  a  hopeless 
case  ?  " 

This  was  rather  a  hard  blow;  but  Haskill  did  not 
flinch. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  after  pausing  a  moment  to  take  breath, 
"  I  do  know  as  much  about  it  as  anybody.  I  saw  them 
when  they  first  met  at  the  regatta  ball ;  and  since  then 
it  has  been  a  hopeless  case  in  more  senses  than  one." 

"  Please  explain." 

"  Well,  she'll  never  marry  him ;  and  for  his  sake  I 
hope  she  won't.  She  was  at  his  house  all  that  first 
summer,  and  he  was  devoted ;  all  the  next  year  he 
danced  attendance ;  and  then  she  went  off,  and  left  him 
disconsolate." 

"  That  is  in  '  one  sense : '  now  the  other,  please,"  with 
a  nervous  little  laugh. 

"  Well,  Sam  —  he  "  —  and  the  doctor  hesitated. 

"  He  is  too  infatuated  to  take  No  for  an  answer  ?*' 

"  Yes,  that  is  about  the  truth  in  plain  English." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  very  softly. 

A  warmer  tie  than  friendship  was  eventually  estab- 
lished between  these  two. 


CLASS  DAY. 


517 


Other  words  fell  on  tlie  air  of  tliis  summer  niglit,  from 
figures  that  passed  noiseless  in  the  gloom :  — 

"  I  can't  see  what  is  going  to  be  gained  by  waiting, 
Mary,  or  why  we  can't  be  married  at  once,  say  Mon- 
day.'' 

"  Oh,  Will !  I  must  liaAX  time  to  get  ready  first." 

"  You  have  had  four  years.  I  gave  you  fair  warning 
that  I  wouldn't  wait  an  hour  after  Class  Day.  We 
shall  be  too  late  for  Switzerland  if  we  delay." 

*  *  ^  «  * 

"  I  am  going  back  to  Paris.  It  is  the  only  place  in 
the  world.  It  was  a  foolish  day  when  I  took  it  into  my 
head  to  come  here.    It  has  been  wasted  time." 

"And  you  regret  the  four  years,  Mr.  Huntingdon? 
There  have  been  those  who  have  found  much  good  in 
them." 

"  Yes,"  bitterly :  "  your  brother,  for  one,  is  wonder- 
fully improved.  But,  after  all,  it  is  boys'  play.  Cartier 
and  I  sail  to-morrow." 

"  Yes  :  I  have  my  degree,  my  father  has  relented,  the 
position  is  waiting  for  me ;  and  I  am  sure  to  have  my 
revenge  on  this  gentleman,  though  it  is  long  deferred." 

^  ^  ^  ^ 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Wentworth,  you  place  the  matter  in 
too  strong  a  light.  I  have  been  careful  for  Sam,  as  I 
best  knew  hovr  to  be,  because  the  splendid  young  fellow 
has  been  dearer  to  me  than  a  brother.  That  he  is  suc- 
cessfully and  safely  through  college"  — 

^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

"  Rose,"  with  a  faltering  laugh,  "  there  must  be  some 
requisite,  some  ideal  standard  that  can  be  achieved. 
Tell  me  what  it  is." 


518 


STUDENT-LIFE  AT  HARVARD. 


"No,  Sam,  there  is  none.  But,"  and  the  words  came 
so  faint  .and  low  that  he  had  to  bend  his  ear  to  catch 
them  as  they  fell  from  her  lips,  "  before  I  could  marry  a 
man,  I  should  have  to  feel  and  know  that  I  could  not 
live  without  him." 

****** 

Perhaps  we  cannot  part  with  our  friends  better  than 
to  leave  them  thus  wandering  under  the  elms. 


DUKE  FACULTY  CHARGE 
Perkins  Circulation 

DUE  DATE 

JUN  3  01992 

Guaranteed  use ^ for 
two  weeks  only 


